


seven devils ( i'll be dead before the day is done)

by dollyvonvixen



Series: seven devils [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV), Once Upon a Time in Wonderland (TV)
Genre: Don't take it too seriously, F/F, an utter mess, enchanted forest, finally my third grade research presentations on greek and egyptian mythology are paying off, magic and more magic, this is pretty much just a cliche ya fantasy novel, we got some prophecies and chosen ones and all that
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-03-01 06:48:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18795133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dollyvonvixen/pseuds/dollyvonvixen
Summary: The fairies have figured out a way to bring them back to the enchanted forest. Only, it's nothing like how they left it. The minute they arrive there are three women on horses saying "they started a war between the gods" what ever that means. Oh, and the prophecy is real and nothing makes sense in this magical version of medieval Europe. Time to go on an adventure to stop that war.technically canon divergence from 2x16





	1. The Woman In The Raven Mask

Complex people weren’t and still aren’t uncommon for her. She revelled in the thrill of figuring them out and bringing them to justice only a year or so ago, afterall.

The most complex of them came when she was brought to a town that went against everything she once believed in. Storybrooke, a small sleepy town run by a hardass and objectively frigid woman. Though, objectively is a bit of a stretch. Falsely arresting someone or spiking cider isn’t exactly something a laid back, sweet lawmaker would do.

Even after death, she still has a haunted imprint on others. Especially the woman in the feathered mask standing across from her with those same chocolate eyes and dark hair. Her eyes might not even be chocolate, but with the sun shining at just the right angel and the shade provided by the mask, they look a lot like a cup of hot cocoa. God she misses cocoa.

Emma Swan isn’t one for poetry and pretty words. In fact, she’s failed english more often than not due to an abundance of telling instead of showing, but that infuriating woman somehow always brought it on. This woman turns out, isn’t much better.

“Is there a reason you’ve been staring at me, Swan?” is the first thing the brunette says to her, her eyes still focused on the other strangers- Robyn and Guinevere, if Emma remembers right. They’re prepping the three horses across the dusty field just outside of a small town.

She can’t quite find them but, she can catch neighs and snorts with ineligible conversation mixed in. It’s almost like being back at foster home five with Mrs. Joesi and her horses. Except this time she’s 29 in what disney would call a whole new world. Not to mention being at the mercy of three women who look like they just came out of a Ren Faire.

“No.” Emma shakes her head. Her mind’s playing tricks on her, but their voices almost sound the same. She’s tempted to answer, but everything she’s taught herself screams otherwise. “Well… you kinda remind me of someone,” she blurts out anyways to her own surprise.

The woman tilts her head curiously. It’s kind of cute.  

“Brunette, dark brown eyes, called the evil queen?” A feral grin spreads slowly, more amused than offended at the notion of being compared to that monster.

Well, that’s not exactly true. Everyone around her says she is, but Emma just can’t see it. Maybe she isn’t evil or maybe Emma has a hard time believing any of the stories from this fantasy land.

“Yeah,” Emma says with a sheepish nod. The woman laughs good-naturedly, so free unlike the woman she was compared to. A strange feeling knots in her stomach.  

“Dark and brooding. I’m glad to make such an impression.” Emma swears she can see her wink under the dark mask. She isn’t given time to figure that out, though, as the woman is sauntering towards the horses. Her cape trails on the ground behind her like a feathery trail.

The difference in the horses is striking. While Robyn and Guinevere tend to their brown steeds, the woman drifts towards a black eight legged horse with fire colored eyes. A sleipnir if she’s remembering her mythology right. Who knew so many mythological creatures were real too?

“What was she talking to you about?” asks Snow innocently. Emma jumps at the unexpected visitor- Emma thinks she’d be used to her parents being around, breathing over her neck constantly, but she’s barely adjusted since that day nearly a year ago.

“Nothing.” She shrugs. It isn’t a lie, per say. Emma had been the one talking to _her_. The woman entertained the conversation for a moment then walked away.

“I don’t like her,” Snow continues unfazed. “She reminds me of something. I can’t put my finger on it, but I don’t like it.”

Emma wants to scream _duh_. The woman is so similar to her arch enemy, how could she _not_ dislike her? It doesn’t hurt the woman has the same animosity _she_ had towards Snow. Though, it isn’t actually animosity as much as it’s complete avoidance. The pair haven't spoken a word since Snow and Emma agreed to join. Well, not so much agree but coming without the threat of bodily harm.

“Snow, you don’t need to like her. We just need to help them and get this over with,” Emma says taking a calming breath. It wouldn’t do her any good to blow up at the one person she knows in this crazy messed up land.

“Yeah, _Snow,”_ purrs the woman in question, “let’s just get this over with.” Her grins even more cat like than before, directly opposite than the bird imagery of her attire. She’s the damn cat who got the canary; or more accurately, raven. The woman’s physically raven-esc, too. Somehow silently flying across the clearing without either women noticing.

She circles them for a moment with an unreadable stare, before giving commands, “The horses are ready. We will be leaving shortly. _Her majesty_ will be riding with Guinevere, Swan joins me. Please.” Her tone brokers no arguments, but even if it did, she walks away before they can respond.

“Well,” drawls Emma, “At least she said please.”

“How can you make light of that woman?” Snow says wrinkling her nose, “I’m telling you, Emma, you should stay away from her. There’s something off about her.”

If there's anything Snow’s good at, it’s telling her what she can and can’t do. Emma learned that _very_ soon after the curse broke.

“No offence, Snow,” says Emma, “but you aren’t the boss of me. I know you have a bad feeling about her and all, but I don't. I learned to rely on myself and my gut for 29 years and my gut tells me she’s okay.” Emma can only pray the barely repressed bitterness of those years doesn’t show in her tone.

“And who’s fault is that,” Snow mutters to herself, nearly inaudibly. _You put me in the stupid wardrobe_. She takes a calming breath as to not blurt out anything stupid like that.

“Hers. I know. We can’t do anything about that now, though so we have to just focus on getting this done then getting back to help your-our people,” Emma hastily corrects herself at Snow’s less than impressed expression. _You’re a princess_ , her head mocks, _a ruler of the masses just like your perfect parents_. She isn’t going to think about this anymore, she decides. It’ll just give her even more of a headache.

Emma walks to help prep the horses.

 

\-- --

 

The trail bumps and rocks much more than she’d anticipated back in the field. The masked woman works the trails with ease, as well as her two companions, but the harsh dirt didn’t care.

It kind of seemed like a conflict of interest. A woman with a clear ravens obsession and maybe the ability to fly if her ability to sneak up on someone is anything to go by, riding a horse instead.

“Penny for your thoughts? They seem rather loud, Swan." The horse neighs as if in agreement. Hell, for all Emma knows the horse _is_ agreeing because of course animals can understand them, “Even Azra agrees.” There it is.

“Ha ha, funny,” she scoffs dryly, “Just wondering why an uber powerful magical raven lady such as yourself decided to ride a fancy eight-legged horse instead of flying us there.”

“Maybe if you ask nicely,” she teases, eyes never leaving the trail. Emma has no idea why. It’s just a seemingly endlessly straight road. The trees aren’t even in the way, but rather acting as walls keeping them even _more_ secure. What is their to look out for?

“Are you saying you can turn into some giant raven and fly us to wherever the hell you’re taking us? And by the way, you still haven’t told us where we’re going. You’re very vague on the details, lady. I don’t feel all that safe. For all I know you’re just taking us away to be held as hostages or something,” Emma says instead of voicing any of those thoughts. The woman would probably just go on some uptight rant on how she’s so experienced with horse riding and do a whole “keep your eyes on the road at all times” speech like Neal gave her during a reckless fleeing of the scene after one of their first heist that almost had her dying in a grungy ditch.

“If I was, I wouldn’t object if you wish to ride me, _Em-ma,_ ” the woman nearly purrs, ignoring her riding companions complaints. If she knew how to ride this horse, maybe she’d act on that growing urge to just smack that stupid smugness out of her. She, however, does not know how to ride an eight legged horse or if it’s any different to a regular one.

She never thought she’d meet another woman who could change her mood like unstable weather but yet, here she is forced on a stupid mysterious journey with her.

Emma may be annoyed at her, not to mention frustrated and maybe a little scared,- as well as the other women dragging her and her, well-meaning but overbearing, mother on a ‘quest to win a war against the gods’- but her body is not annoyed in the slightest.

At least, not in the same way her mind is becoming. Now she’s just getting annoyed at how much she’s starting to desire this mysterious woman with her silky voice and stupid smart mouth. If she was more versed in magic, she might think it was a spell. This is what she gets for staying away from one night stands for an entire year.   

“So,” she clears her throat awkwardly trying to ignore the stifled snickers from the two other women and the almost grimace on her mother's face, “Are you going to tell us where we’re going before we get there?”

“No,” comes the curt reply. The sudden coldness only serves to remind her someone she once knew. It has to be tiring to rapidly switch emotions like that.  

“Come on, Adrestia,” cuts in Robyn. The others don’t seem to notice, and if they do they don’t say anything, but she can catch Snow inhale sharply at the name. She’ll have to ask later. “We might as well. I mean, we are going there after all. We weren’t planning on blindfolding them till we got inside or anything, right?”

“I suppose we aren’t,” she drawls dully, clearly still not keen to the idea. “We are heading to my castle.”

Emma’s eyes bulge out of their sockets so quickly she’s sure it must be quite the sight to behold.

“Your castle?” they repeat in unison.

“What kind of Empress am I without a lavish castle?” she snarks, uninterested in the way they gawk even more at this information.

“Empress? That implies an _empire_ ...” Snow is the first to recover. “The last time we visited there was only a village and Cora _destroyed_ them. You mean to say there's an entire _empire_ built within a year?”

“Dear, you seem to be misinformed,” chuckles the woman, almost bitterly. “For you it’s been a year, but for us it’s been over a decade.”

“A decade,” Emma repeats dumbly. “Last time I checked, time didn’t pass that much faster here.”

“Much has changed,” is all she offers. Emma gets the message, the conversation is over.

 

\-- --

 

As Emma enters the station, her guts sinking. The air is much too chilled for this time of year, the air is just too _wrong_. It’s quiet, no snarky comments to great her like usual or annoyed groans. Only the stomping of Emma’s boots and an unsettling aura.  

Any moment she expects to hear the sass she’d become accustomed to finally come. Hell, she might beg for it at this point. Something to tell her she’s got something wrong in where her minds spiraling.

It never comes.

The dread just sticks on thicker every moment that snark doesn’t come. She isn’t going to like what’s in that room, is she? What is she going to tell Henry? As she turned the corner, she can’t help but still hope she’s wrong.

She isn’t.

_Her_ body lays splayed out and unnatural. If Emma was less of a pessimist, she might say the woman had simply fallen asleep at a weird angel. She certainly had a lot to be exhausted by.

From absorbing so much fairydust, to being framed for murder by her mother, a woman who she’d been tricked into killing in the first place, to being locked away and put on trial she had a lot to weigh her down both physically and mentally.

_Trying to be a hero only got her worse punishment_. Emma has to push that thought away. Now isn’t the time for blame.

She isn’t sleeping and that thought alone causes tingles to her body. She’s cold and pale. She doesn’t need to check for a heart beat to figure out she was right.

The brunette she had so many conflicting feelings for, ones she didn’t even know how to explain (or want to) just… gone. How the hell is Henry going to feel? She wants to slap any god who decided she needs to tell him how his mothers gone.   

She doesn’t notice she’s crying until a minute passes and the tears are falling. She wants to move, to wipe it all away, but she’d just look back and start again. She itches to run, pretend she didn’t catch a glimpse at all. It would be so easy. She doesn’t want to go any closer, it isn’t real. Her legs weren't stuck but the damned weight of the sight made it nearly so. This was all so wrong.

 

Emma jerks awake, heart pounding wildly from the dream- no, _memory._ It’s a painful and real but oh so wrong memory _-_ as she throws aimless glances around the unfamiliar forest. Why is the blanket so heavy on her body? Her arms shake as they hold her up and everything just feels so warm and hot like she’s suffocating in a fire.

Her mother’s sleeping peacefully beside like the perfect princess she always is. The other women is too for that matter, but the blankets set up for Robyn and Adrestia lay empty. She can catch a fire crackling between the cricket chirps and voices somewhere close.

Beyond the treeline, Emma can make out the pair sitting by the small fire talking. If she strains her ears with enough focus, she can make it out.

“-on! We need to get the key and band if we’re to win this war! It’s how we got the advantage in the first,” hisses Robyn. “This is a war, _Regina_! We don’t need strategy right now as much as we need actual action and defenses.”

Emma inhales sharply at that. It’s her tired mind playing tricks on her, but for a moment she can swear it’s _her_ under that mask and _her_ name she just heard. But it isn’t. Magic may be real, but dead is dead. She saw the body and her dream just reminded her of that unfortunate fact.

“I know that, Robyn! But you don’t know what you’re dealing with! I lead the armies during the first war, christ sake! You do not get to lecture me on war strategies,” she sighs and massages the bridge of her nose. “The band is dangerous and the key is even more so. I had them locked away for a reason. It’s not just a matter of taking action or strategy, it’s a matter of serious threat you refuse to address.”

“We’re on the verge of war! A war! We barely won the first one! Those are the strongest weapons we have besides… _him._ They wont turn on us,” Robyn is nearly heaving in frustration. “You and Thea are in so much danger! You have to realize where i’m coming from. You have to strike before the months end or else we stand no chance! You know this! There are stakes I am not willing to lose.”

“You and I both know i’ll _die_ seven bloody deaths before Delthea is put in _any_ damn danger,” says Adrestia. Robyn opens her mouth to protest but the masked woman is quick to cut her off, “Don’t you dare try and question my love for her or anything stupid like that or else i’ll cut out your tongue and feed it to you. Do not dare try and guilt me into this out of some misguided sense of heroics, girl. I may be your equal here, but in war I am your commander.

“I’ll offer you a promise, however. If we cannot find something better in say a weeks time, we shall go after the band and key. If we can, those stay locked away in the deepest pits of Emsholm.”

Emma feels a strange burning in her heart, which is ridiculous because nothing she said should affect her like this. If she didn’t know any better, she might say jealousy, but what is their to be jealous over? A ‘Delthea’ the masked woman supposedly loves? It’s _absurd_. She doesn’t even like Regina that much.

“Okay. I suppose that’s fair,” tentatively agrees Robyn with a nod, likely to reassure herself. “Okay. Okay, sounds good. I will hold you to it, by the way.”

“I expect nothing less, darling.” The brunette smiles briefly before stalking away, somewhere deeper in the forest. Emma moves to get a closer look, but snaps a twig with her hand as she leans to the side. She curses under her breath.

Robyn’s eyes scan the area and Emma quickly pretends to be asleep. She’s pretty good at it if she does say so herself. Years of it in foster care sure helped with that. She holds her breath. Robyn’s walking through camp before Emma can think to change into a more believable sleeping position.

The tension radiates from her blanket if anyone bothers to glance. Robyn doesn’t and just settles for the night in her blanket.  Emma exhales with relief. She glances around one last time, scanning the woods for signs of the woman. Nothing. With a sigh, she rolls into a more comfortable position on her side.

Her eyes droop and sting with fatigue but after minutes sleep still hasn’t taken root. What kind of unfair lottery did she get entered in all of a sudden? A mysterious adventure with a snarky lady and annoying mother and now she can’t fall asleep and is gonna spend the entirety of tomorrow all cranky. Great. Just great. It is great after all, though, because soon she does drift off dreaming of giant tigers and armored ladies riding eight legged horses.

\-- --

 

The sounds of horses stomping and the harsh sunlight rouse her from probably the best sleep she’s gotten in months. What does that say about Storybrooke, she has to question.

“Wake up, _sleeping beauty_!” says the masked woman from a distance. She’s clapping her hands loudly as she yells, “Up! Up! Daylight's wasting away!”

Emma groans and lifts herself off the ground. She gathers her blanket and heads over to the woman, more wearily than yesterday as last night plays through her mind again. The truth is, she can’t say if it was a dream or not- she was more tired than she’d ever admit to them and it very well could have been- but the questions it brought still linger with an uncomfortable aftertaste.

“It’s so early,” Emma nearly whines. The masked woman purses her lips and Emma can _feel_ the probably raised eyebrow underneath the mask.

“Would you rather we left without you?” she blunty asks with a scoff, “Because, you’re welcome to sleep if that's the case, dear. We have work to do and a time limit.”  

Before Emma can think of a retort, she’s storming off. If anything proves last night happened, it’s how tense and snappish the brunette is. An aura of fire practically radiates off her physically as she swirls through the preparations. She’s untrained and unconfined flame as she aggressively packs in the blankets. She barks out orders but neither Robyn nor Guinevere seemed phase at her harsh demeanor. Her mother, on the other hand, is what looks like a few moments away from bursting into ugly tears.

The five women mount their horses in deafening silence. Their journey continues on without breaking the tension for what could be hours. In fact, it isn’t broken until a shrill cry echoes. A dark furred creature with massive wings peaks from the trees and nearly gives a hungry grin before diving down towards them. Emma’s body tenses, completely prepared to hop off the horse and run or hell, fight the beast if it comes down to it. Her hearts beating hard enough to shake her chest with the force. However, the horses nor women seemed phased like her or her mother. Either she’s missing something or they have a death wish.

They continue walking along the path without care. Robyn looks almost expectant, like she’s waiting for the nasty thing to fly down. It does.

It’s unlike anything Emma’s ever seen and only gets stranger the clearer it becomes. It has an almost monkey face and sharp claws like an eagle with massive feathered wings. It opens its mouth and lets out squeaky chirps and chatters that make her want to crawl out of her skin and cringe. Robyn and Guinevere nod along, as if they can understand it, while Adrestia frowns.

“Thank you, Chistery,” smiles Robyn kindly, “Tell my mother we’ll be home by nightfall. There’s no need for her to get herself worked up in a frenzy.”

“Yes, please also tell my sister to gather the others so we may speak as soon as possible,” adds the masked woman, “The war room is preferable but I am not opposed to the dining hall or other chambers if it’s unavailable.”

The creature- Chistery- nods and flies off out of sight in a beat, presumably to the castle. The conversation does add more pieces to the whole how they know each other puzzle, even if she’s left a little more confused than before too.

“Sister, huh?” says Emma suddenly. The woman flinches slightly at the sudden sound, like she forgot Emma was there for a minute. Emma doesn’t dwell much on it as they continue the trail. “So, Robyns your niece?”

“Yes, my sister," she chuckles fondly though still much colder than yesterday, “My hood wearing idiot thief of a sister.”

Wait. Emma freezes. Her name daughter is _Robyn_ . Her mother is a _hood_ wearing _thief_.

“Is your sister _Robin Hood_?” Emma blurts out. Just when she thought this weird place couldn’t get weirder Robin Hood is real, actually rich, and a woman.  

“Why yes, indeed,” she replies. “I take it you’ve heard of her in your land? She has quite the reputation. It’s only fair it would travel the realms, I suppose.”

“Well, yeah! Robin Hood is like really famous, who hasn’t heard of him. Or.. err I guess her. This whole fairytales being real thing is getting really confusing, god,” she mutters to herself. “I mean seriously, what the hell. This entire land is crazy and I can’t tell if it’s real or i’m just going insane half the time. What the hell.”

“I’d imagine, Swan.” She’s chuckling again like there's an inside joke Emma just doesn’t catch. It throws her off a little but Emma isn’t going to let that phase her.  

“So, any more famous people in your family?” she says instead of dwelling. ”Your mother Ariel or something?”

“Well, my other sister is known as ‘The Cheshire Cat’ to some if that’s familiar in anyway…”

\-- --

 

She doesn’t get much more information beyond surface level things for the rest of the ride. She gets it, Emma does. If Emma doesn’t trust them they wouldn’t trust her with deep family secrets either. Doesn’t mean she isn’t curious and a little disappointed.

The darkness starts to shade the sky (That makes it sound much more dramatic than it is. Truth is, it’s just really, really dark and it’s kinda like a movie with how fast it’s becoming night) a silhouette comes into view. It’s large, huge even, and its easy to figure out it’s _the_ castle. Wooden buildings with fenced areas line the outside like roots of a tree with large natural toned structures behind it making it look as if it were a giant tree.

Two walls surround it, a stone on the outer wall with a wooden gate guarded heavily and the other simple line of trees carefully woven together with people making their rounds around it. It’s like something you’d read in any cliche medieval fantasy novel as the capital building.

The guards stand unmoving, unblinking, as they approach the gates.

“Names!” the right one yells at them. It’s kind of intimidating if you aren’t traveling with a probably powerful magic lady there to protect you. Plus, the armor looks kinda heavy and he’d probably have a hard time chasing her if she made a run for it.

“Adrestia,” says the masked woman simply. Armour clanks instantly as they move to open the large doors. The eight legged horse without command enters. She’s immediately assaulted with scents of things akin to wet dog and hay. The trail is completely full of animals in large fenced in pens.

Emma can’t even figure out what the hell half of them are, but she can make out a Qilin with a large, almost beastly, cat right at the bars of the nearest fence and a kitsune right sitting outside it. Is it supposed to be outside the fence?

As soon as it hears the hooves, the fox jumps up and springs towards them happily. It chirps in an almost friendly manner as it pads up to to the horses. All Emma can think is, _please don’t start talking to an animal again_. No one listens.

“Hello, Makoto!” Robyn waves from behind them. “I see you’re keeping Zhihao and Ladislava company tonight. Was dinner good? I heard it was fish night.”

“Ladislava?” whispers Emma. “That sounds like some kind of desert. Like a chocolate lava cake.”

“Talk to Elowen about it, dear. These are her pets, not mine,” says the masked woman as Robyn continues small talk with the chipper silver fox. “Actually, Makoto could possibly be her child but we’ve never had time to look into that.”

Understandable they’re probably busy- _wait what_? How does a human birth a nine tailed fox? Is it some weird werewolf thing?

“Oh, yeah! You can imagine Azras reaction when Charlotte got the last carrot. He was livid!” vividly recalls Robyn. “Mani and me made sure to stay far, far away for a while, don’t worry. I think that was the most entertaining thing to happen on the way over. Their really wasn’t much going on.”

Oh god, are the horses sentient too? Adrestia _did_ kind of imply that early… It’s insane, really. She ends up tuning out the crazy until she hears mention of her name.

“-Emma? Oh yeah, Mako, she’s the savior,” says Robyn to the fox who angrily chirps (Can foxes frown, because it almost looks like that fox is frowning). “I know! We tried to prevent her return but we can’t do anything about it. You know Elowen is already working on defense, this won't be like before. We won the first, we can do it again.”

The fox yips quietly in response. Robyn sighs and runs her hand through her hair, contemplating for a moment.

“That won't happen, Mako. Auntie promised she’ll go after the band and key if we can’t find a better plan. I imagine mom wouldn’t let her go alone, though, so she’ll be safe.” At this point, a woman talking to a fox seems to be the least confusing part of this puzzle. “Then again, auntie would probably fight mom and go on her own in the middle of the night. Then mom would follow after her. They’re both stubborn like that but we love them, yeah?”

The fox chirps in what she imagines is agreement.

“God, don’t remind me.” Robyn rubs her face. “That entire day is one i’d like to forget. Do you know what being dropped in the sea feels like? I swear there was mud in places I didn’t know existed! Hell, I was cleaning seaweed out of my hair for weeks! They all laughed as I crawled out of that water like a drowned fox, no offense.”

The fox flicks its tail as if to wave it off.

“I mean, at least Elowen made some good stew out of the seaweed that night so it wasn’t _that_ bad. I mean, it’s better than pig eyes.”

 

\-- --

 

The horses come to a halt as they reach the second wall. The trees are woven much too tightly together for a horse and it’s clear they’ll have to go on foot. Emma can’t wonder what’s happening to the horses before the masked woman is urging her to dismount and Guinevere is taking the reins of Mani and Charlotte.

“I will be in the armory if you need me,” Guinevere informs with a small incline of her head. She leads the horses off to a clearing on the left.

“I’ll be there too in a second.” Robyn smiles and takes Azra’s reins, leading him down to a clearing the opposite way. Adrestia gives them a small nod of acknowledgement and starts leading Emma and Snow through the trunks.

The trees guard an almost enchanting grove filled with unfamiliar flowers, Emma notices as she slips passed the third. The clearing is nearly lined with large, well worn rocks while books and toys are discarded aimlessly.

The area itself doesn’t look that large, but it still feels like she’s walked a mile when  the masked woman halts at the stairs in front of a large, intricately decorated door. Their are pillars caging the door as well as two smaller doors and if she’s honest it kind of looks like one of those fancy banks.

The woman leads them to the smaller door on the right and doesn’t wait before pushing it open. Emma’s immediately assaulted with scents of food and soaps. It’s like entering a mall.

Adrestia confidently strolls into the busy castle. The people, staff most likely, barely acknowledging her beyond a kind smile or wave as they work. There’s people cleaning and corridors more buzzing than train stations on either side. The place itself is pristine and elegant not to mention just pale that should make it feel lifeless unlike the natural tones that cover the front doors.

It doesn’t feel lifeless, though. It has the same sense of life and meaning as any of the happy family homes she’d seen on TV.

She can’t quite describe it, but a sense of dread builds deep in her gut. It’s twisting her insides uncomfortably as they walk further and further and only grows when the woman halts in front of another set of large doors. It reminds her of the first door really. It’s large and intricately detailed with jewels. The masked woman pushes it open.

The room itself is grand but with three thrones along either side it seems all that more condensed. The six said thrones are taken by various other women but a seventh, the largest and possibly the most daunting, sits empty at the very end. It isn’t hard to assume who exactly sits there.

A wooden table sits at the center, covered in various books and maps. The pages are written in what can only be described as _elvish_ or something equally mythic and covered in pictures that don’t quite make sense. The women though, understand or else the fact they’re reading and using those materials would be kinda weird.

They turn their attention to the door as they three enter. They’re wearing all varying expressions of relief and barely hidden anger or annoyance. Well, except for one of the blondes who looks at them blankly.

The masked woman gives them a silent command to stay there and saunters across confidently to her throne. She takes her seat with more grace than sitting down should ever have and isn’t afraid to lean back, comfortably resting her arm on the side and crossing her legs. The attempted seduction wouldn’t be complete without a devilish smirk, though, and one spreads across her face. She moves to take off the mask. The world almost seems to shift as it falls off.

_“You’re the Adrestia?!”_ yells out a shocked Snow while Emma’s yelling out a loud, “ _Regina?!_ ”


	2. Before The Storm Rolls In

Henry, no matter how much he fights it, occasionally thinks of the evil woman who raised him. Not evil to him of course, but she’s committed so many crimes she deserves to be called evil. 

He’s lying awake in a mildly uncomfortable bed at the loft with clattering of dishes being put away in the background this particular night. He’s mostly contemplating about the land they’ll be traveling to tomorrow, their former home. It was hers too. 

Was she happy there? A regret he won’t deny is not learning more about his adoptive caregiver. He could easily pass it off as learning more about the enemy, but in the end he’s just  _ curious _ . Someone like her isn’t just born that way, right? 

It would be easier to stop trying to think about all of this. They’re returning to rebuild the Enchanted Forest soon and she’s the reason they need to at all. She cast the curse.

Emma, grandma, grandpa, and him could be a  _ real _ family and  _ real _ royals living in a castle. He can learn to ride horses and sword fight with grandpa, maybe grandma could teach him to talk to animals like her. He could live the life his adoptive mother stole. 

Stole is a strong word. She gave him toys and comics to read, that’s not really a stolen childhood is it? She still stole away all the cool things he could’ve been taught like sword fighting, though. She never taught him how to be a hero like his family either. 

A knock sounds on his door and he jumps.  _ Grandma _ , he figures. She’s been telling him stories from the Enchanted Forest ever since the fairies figured out how to take them back. 

“Hello sweetie,” she says with a beaming smile. She’s looks almost manically happy, but that isn’t unusual for her. “Can you believe we’re going home tomorrow? I almost can’t! It’s going to be so wonderful being back home.” She takes a seat beside him on the bed and looks at him admiringly. “Oh, you’re just so handsome. I can’t believe Regina raised such a wonderful boy. Then again, you are a Charming and our blood always beats evil.” 

“Mmm, it’s pretty cool. Can’t wait to go see it all. It’s going to be  _ so _ cool!” he replies enthusiastically, not bothering to address the jabs or the fact a part of him wants to defend her. 

“Would you like to hear a bedtime story my-er… friend used to tell me?” asks grandma like she has every night this week. Henry nods eagerly. 

“My... friend was a woman who believed in many gods. Daddy thought she was insane, but I knew she wasn’t. She’d tell me stories she read about where Zeus himself fought on the battlefield against her homeland but they still won or one where Dionysus held a festival to celebrate Poseidon's new creation all the way in the north islands and people competed to make him the best wine. She’d sit on my bed like this and just tell me stories until I fell asleep. 

“I’ve told you some of them these past nights but my favorite story of hers, isn’t actually a stories. She said it was a prophecy. I’ve heard a few different retellings but it’s the same idea always.

“Anyways, the prophecy went, ‘The seven at the helm of men will restore the realm. A war to rebel the beginning ages, a war that will land all their foes in cages. Peace will come at the hand of a mortal god, and with her, balance that will always be awed’. Except, the weirdest part is, she gave three mortal gods. 

“ Adrestia of The Line, a creature full of love and war who represents the balance between evil and good, the  Tribune of Voice, a protector of the mortals and voice of the people, and the Divine of Sin, a child born from the parents sin who returns the peace. My friend always believed  Adrestia to be the obvious mortal god, but I always believed in the  Tribune. Still do.”

Henry yawns and rubs his eyes drowsily but nods along. 

“ No matter which of the three, though, they’ll be put through trials and given choices to become the mortal god. The first choice is the simplest, themself or the people. The second is a harder one, selfishness or selflessness. The third, however, is the most difficult. Morality. There is no yes or no answer, instead they must create their own answer. If they fail even one, the world may as well be damned...” finishes his grandmother. A little over dramatically in Henry’s opinion. 

“Do you think that really happened?” he questions. “Or is really going to happen?” 

“I’m not sure, Henry.” Grandma shrugs. “The gods haven’t made an appearance to a living soul in decades to my knowledge. I mean, they could have and someone didn’t share but I don’t think so. Plus, why would the gods start a war with us in the first place? We’re just mortals.”

“Ok.” He nods at her logic and wiggles deeper under the covers. “I’m tired. G’night, Grams.” 

“Goodnight, sleep well.” She kisses his forehead before leaving the room, closing the door with a soft click. 

 

\-- --

 

Today’s the day. The thought alone energizes Henry and he quickly hops out of bed, rushing downstairs to the family he can already hear moving around the kitchen. He can hear them talk and halts for a second to listen. 

“-all I’m saying is a princess usually has a prince, Emma,” he hears grandma saying between the clattering of dishes moving. “I mean me and David, Kathryn and Frederick, Aurora and Philip. Need I go on?”

“Yes, because that’s still not a compelling reason to start ‘looking for my true love’,” mocks Emma. “Why do I even need a true love, guys?” 

“I just want you to find love like me and your father.” 

“Yeah, sweetie. We just want you to be happy,” he can hear grandpa add. 

“I am happy,” counters Emma setting something down, “I have my… parents, my son, my friends. I don’t need a relationship too. I’m happy, guys.”

“But you could be happier.”

“I somehow doubt that, Snow.”

“I wish you’d call me mom.”

“Yeah, I know. Sorry, I guess. I’m still just getting used to that.”

“It’s been almost a year, Emma. Why is it so hard for you to call me mom?” grandma nearly whines. 

“I dunno. I spent 28 years without parents it’s just a little weird I guess.” He can practically hear the shrug punctuating the sentence. “I mean it’s still kinda hard to believe I have a son let alone parents now. I went from being on my own to having people. Just cut me a little slack, yeah?”

“Just another thing we can thank the Evil Queen for,” mutters grandma. Now is probably the time to cut in. It never ends well when grandma says the e word around Emma. 

“Good morning,” he greets cheerfully. 

“Morning, Henry,” greet his grandparents with a slight wave.  

His ma turns to him from her seat at the island. “Hey! Morning, kid. How’d you sleep?” asks Emma. She’s across from his grandparents eating a bowl of colorful cereal.   

“Good,” he says with a shrug taking a seat next to her. “I had kind of a weird dream but that’s it.”

“Wanna tell me about it?” 

“Their isn’t really much to tell. Something about a raven and a white bird. Maybe it was a swan like you. Oh! I think there was a hawk too.”

“Interesting,” says Emma, “I had a dream Granny’s ran out of grilled cheese and then a rat dressed like Puss in Boots from Shrek challenged me to a duel over the last grilled cheese ever. He won and that made me sad so I moved to Cairo and adopted a sheep.”

“That’s pretty weird, Emma.” Grandma sets a bowl filled with the same thing down in front of him. “Wait, what’s Cairo?”

“A place in Egypt. Did they not teach you that in school?”

“We were cursed,” Henry says with an implied ‘duh’. 

“Hey, I dunno what a magic cursed town teaches in school,” she replies with an exaggerated shrug. Henry laughs at her.

“Well, we did a thing on mythology once and that included ancient Egypt. Hey, do you think that’s real too?”

“Kid, at this point I’d believe anything’s real. This world is a weird place.” He nods and eats a spoonful. 

“I’ve heard stories of the Greek gods back in the Enchanted Forest. I’d say they’re real,” says grandma. 

“The Greek gods?” grandpa questions. “That’s like Zeus and Hera, right?” 

“Yep,” says Henry. “Can we go to Grannys for lunch later?” 

“We have to help Blue prepare everything for the spell, but i’m sure Emma can,” says grandma looking to Emma. 

“Yeah, sure,” she mumbles with a full mouth. 

Henry scrunches his nose in disgust. “That’s gross, Emma.” 

“Your face is gross,” she childishly retorts. 

He sticks his tongue out and they finish breakfast. 

 

\-- --

 

The bell above the door rings. Emma’s holding the door open for Henry and he walks in, taking it in for probably the last time. He takes a seat at one of the empty booths along the wall and Emma follows suit.

The building is quiet. The dinner isn’t busy, there’s only a few people scattered around, but it’s atmospheric with everybody enjoying their last meal in Storybrooke. Ruby’s behind the counter taking the order of one of the dwarfs. 

She makes brief eye contact with Emma and holds up a finger, mouthing ‘one sec’. She turns back to the patron and jots something down. 

“So, last time at Grannys. Wanna order anything special?” asks Emma sliding into the booth. She picks up and looks over the menu like she doesn’t already have it memorized. 

“I dunno. Maybe a milkshake or something?” Henry shrugs. With all the chaos surrounding the move back to the Enchanted Forest, food wasn’t really at the forefront of his mind. 

“What flavor?” Ruby says as she walks over. 

“Hmm.” His face falls pensive as he thinks over the difficult choice. “Chocolate?”

“Good choice,” says Ruby quickly jotting it down on her pad. “What about you, Ems? The normal or you wanna mix it up?” 

“I think I’ll just have a cocoa.” 

“Come on! Why not spice it up?” she encourages. 

“You know what? Add a bear claw. I doubt the Enchanted Forest has much of those.” If it did, maybe she’d be more open to going. Chimera could never compare to bear claws. 

“Okay.” Ruby nods. ”I’ll get your drinks made in a sec. Hold tight,” she says then walks off to the back. 

“Do you think they have milkshakes in the Enchanted Forest?” Henry tilts his head curiously. “I mean like, they have cows and milk and ice. Do you think we can make milkshakes there?”

“You’re gonna have to ask your grandma, kid. That wasn’t exactly a priority of mine the first time,” she replies. 

He seems to accept this and asks, “How about homework? Do the tutors give out homework.” 

Emma shrugs. The Enchanted Forest isn’t a topic she’s studied up on. From what she knows, it’s medieval Europe with magic.

There’s a buzz in her pocket that grabs her attention. She reaches in to take it out and glances at the caller ID. She sighs audibly at the name. 

“Sorry, kid, I gotta take this,” she apologizes. She looks around, debating where to go, and eventually heads out behind Grannys. It buzzes again and she answers it. 

“What do you want, Neal?” She leans against the brick wall with the phone to her ear. 

“To see my son on weekends,” he says. He’s been calling her with the same request two weeks now. She’s been giving the same answer. 

“Listen, I’m stressed and I really don’t wanna repeat myself more than I have to. We’re leaving for the Enchanted Forest later today. You know this.” She pinches the bridge of her nose. It’s all she can do not to blow up on someone who doesn’t necessarily deserve it. 

“Why can’t you just stay?” he asks. 

“My mother is Snow White. She’d never let me. Plus, can’t you just get your dad to get you some magic beans or something.” When Neal and Tamara went back to NYC, Rumple knew he didn’t want to be far from his son again. After seeing a true effort to change, Neal was happy to have his father back and let him move in to their place until Rumple could find a job. 

“Em, we’re in a land without magic. How exactly do you think papa’s gonna get  _ magic _ beans?” 

“He’s the Dark One,” she says like it’s obvious. Granted, magic isn’t her area of expertise by any means.  

“That doesn’t mean he’s a god.” 

“Doesn’t mean who’s a god?” calls the muffled voice of Tamara over the line. 

“Papa. Being Dark One doesn’t make him all powerful. I’m talking to Emma about Henry,” calls back Neal. “Sorry about that. Now, where were we?” 

“I was explaining to you that as much as I’m sure you both would love it, we like physically can’t have you take him on weekends.” 

“Are you sure? We’d really love to have him over.” She can hear the puppy dog eyes over the line. 

“Listen, tell ya what, if we can ever figure out a way to do the whole inter realm we can work something out. Until then, you, Rumple, and Tamara will be here in a land without magic and Henry and I will be stuck in the Enchanted Forest.”

He reluctantly agrees and Emma hangs up.

 

\-- --

 

_ Well, this is the moment of truth _ . Emma stifles a chuckle at her wording. Her parents, Blue, and her are standing by the wishing well, but, if all things work, they won't be in a few moments. 

The fairy drops something else into the well. Blue, no matter how many bad vibes she gives, knows what she’s doing and that's made clear by the purple smoke snaking around the wells’ roof. Is that how the curse looked? She’ll have to ask later. 

“Hair,” says Blue holding her hand out demandingly. Snow is quick to grab the bundles of hair from the bag and hand it to her like an obedient student trying to please the mean school teacher. She carelessly throws them in the moment they hit her palm. 

“Tough crowd tonight, huh?” says David jovially. Emma isn’t exactly sure what part of a rude and kind of scary fairy performing dangerous magic beside his meek looking wife is something to be happy over. “Snow’s always had an apprentice type crush on Blue. Wants to learn from her and all that. You can probably tell Blue doesn’t really feel the same.” 

“Uh huh. Kinda looks like she hates her, David.” Emma gestures back to the well where Blue’s glaring at Snow for being too slow. 

“Probably. Don’t tell your mother, though.” He shrugs. 

“Doesn’t the whole “true love” thing mean you don’t lie to each other or something?”

“It’s not lying. It’s just not mentioning a few things that could hurt the love of my lifes feelings. There’s a difference.” 

“Yeah, the difference is you’re in denial about lying.” 

“Whatever. Hey, how are you feeling? Any things you wanna share with dear old dad?” 

“Nice topic change. But I’m feeling fine - Really! Don’t give me that look. I mean it, David. I feel fine. I’m a little nervous and stressed I guess, but we all are. We don’t know if this is gonna send us to goddamn Narnia or the Enchanted Forest if it even works.” 

“Hey, hey. Calm down, kiddo,” soothes David raising his hands in surrender, “I just wanna know if you’re doing ok. No need to get all defensive on me.”

“I’m not getting defensive,” she scoffs, “I’m just stating the facts. We really don’t know where this thing is gonna send us if it even works.” 

“And you don’t need to, kiddo. Good always wins, it’ll all work out just fine.” He gives her a comforting shoulder squeeze and turns his attention back to the well. 

“If you’re in storybook or a day time tv show,” she mutters under her breath when she’s sure he’s completely distracted. 

 

\-- --

 

It happens in a beat. One moment he’s reading his story book, the next he’s jolting awake in a grass field clutching it. 

It’s light out and he can see various towns folk groaning awake around him, but that isn’t what he’s focused on. The Enchanted Forest is somehow everything he’s imagined and nothing like it.

Far off in the distance he can see the silhouette of a town, but for miles and miles around him it’s just greenery. 

“Henry?” calls out Emma. She’s bustling through the crowd towards him. Her clothes are the same as they were in Storybrooke, her red leather jacket and a pair of jeans.  

“Here,” he calls back, waving his free arm. 

“Henry,” Emma breaths out in relief. She pulls him in for a tight hug. It makes sense, she doesn’t trust magic like him or his grandparents. She doesn’t trust the fact that he’s fine after magic does it’s thing. 

“We did it.” He grins. She nods, dazed, at him. There are more voices coming from around the hill, grandma and grandpa. They’re helping out citizens as they make their way over to the pair like any good hero would do. 

A woman asks grandpa something and he seems to agree. He’s nodding and standing tall as he addresses them. “People of the Enchanted Forest, welcome home! Now, our first priority here is making sure everyone is safe. If you need help finding a loved one, that’s what us Charmings do best. Please don’t hesitate to ask for help, we are in this together!”

The crowd cheers happily at this, but a lull falls over them quickly. Henry turns to see the cause of it. 

Three figures on horses are approaching fast. Two brown horses flanked the sides of a black steed, their riders in matching clothes. Emma steps protectively in front of him as they come closer and closer. 

They come to a halt just outside of the ring and the women in black dismounts. 

“I take it you are the people of Storybrooke?” asks the woman. Her voice is deep and intimidating, but ultimately, kind of familiar. Henry furrows his brow at it. 

“Yeah, and who are you?” says Emma giving them a once over.  

“None of your concern. You’re coming with us,” she instructs firmly. Her stance is confident, as if daring them to deny her. 

“Why would we do that?” questions Emma. The two stare each other down for a beat. 

“You have no idea what you’ve done by coming back here,” she says in lieu of an answer. 

“We’ve taken back what the Evil Queen stole,” says grandma. The towns folk murmur in agreement behind her. 

“You’ve started a war you’re going to stop. Now, she,” the woman looks towards Emma, “has powerful magic. I can feel it. She’s coming with us.”

“Like hell she is,” protest grandpa. He looks around for something, but there isn’t a sword in sight. She waves a gloved hand and one appears next to him in the grass. He looks up at her, confused, and she merely smirks. She has magic and she knows that's intimidating.  

“You seem to think you have a choice in these matters,” says the woman, her face falling serious again. They open their mouths to speak but she cuts them off, “You don’t. Now, we can be civil, or add a different approach. What do you say?”

“I say suck it-“ Emma’s cut off but her mother.

“Only if I come too,” she says. The woman doesn't look too taken aback by the offer. She pauses for a moment to think and nods. 

“Fine. Now that we’re settled, our camp is this way.” She turns to mount the horse. 

“Hey, I never agreed,” protest Emma. “I’m not leaving my kid.”

“It’s fine, Emma. You need to be the hero. You’re the savior,” says Henry. 

“Kid, i’m no savior and i’m sure as hell not leaving you alone in a strange land.”

“It’s okay! Please, Emma. You help people and they need help!”

“Emma, he’s right. We shouldn’t leave people in need. We’re heroes, we always do the right thing,” says grandma.

“Think this through for a minute, Snow. We don’t know them. Maybe they just wanna murder us or something.” 

“We don’t, we only want your help,” says one of the women. She has honey hair and a much kinder face than either of her two companions. 

“Who are you?” asks Emma, not unkindly. 

“I’m Robyn,” she points to the other woman on horse, “That’s Guinevere. What’s your name?” 

“Emma Swan. Who is she?” Robyn opens her mouth to speak but the masked woman cuts her off. 

“None of your concern. Now, are you coming nicely or not?” 

“No,” says Emma defiantly. 

 

She finds herself joining them a few hours later.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can you smell that? it almost smells like a lot of foreshadowing... hey a shrek reference!


	3. Seven Devils All Around You

What do you even say when someone you know is dead, someone you saw the  _ body _ of, tells you she’s been alive the entire time? Emma sure as hell doesn’t know.

“So, we have much to discuss-“ Regina starts only to be cut off. 

“What the  _ fuck _ , Regina! Seriously? We thought you were dead! I saw your  _ body _ !” it comes out as more screechy than she would’ve preferred, but the situation justifies it. “You fucking piece of- God, Regina! What the hell?!” 

She doesn’t even notice the fire growing in her palm, the heat she’s literally holding and growing as her blood boils hotter, until it’s shooting towards Regina. Her breath falls short for a moment as it flies towards her.  _ This is it _ ,  _ she’s alive only for you to kill her _ . 

Only, as it reaches her, she doesn’t bat an eyelash as a halo of fire surrounds her, absorbing it into the crackling flames. She doesn’t even seem phased or angry someone tried to kill her, even if by mistake. Emma’s eyes widen slightly. Regina smirks. 

“Dear, a little fire can’t hurt me,” she winks, that asshole, “In fact, a lot of fire couldn’t hurt me.” She looks so damn smug on that throne and Emma’s angry again. 

“What the hell, woman?! Can you give us some damn  _ answers  _ before bragging about how  _ great _ and  _ magical _ you are? Dammit, you’re so goddamned selfish! I can’t believe I ever thought you were changing! What about Henry? Seriously?” she seethes. She feels a pang of guilt as she sees Regina rear back slightly, but really Regina should feel guilty for this whole situation.  

“Don’t speak on matters you don’t know,” Regina says simply. Her tone is harsher, but still light. “Anyways, we really do have matters to discu-” 

“Would you shut it with your high and mighty attitude? Maybe i’d know if you gave me answers at some point.” 

“Why don’t you sit down and listen for once,” snaps a redhead to Regina’s right. 

“Zelena,” chides a blonde woman to Regina’s left. 

“You know what... You want answers, huh? Well how’s this for an answer. A war is upon us and you’re angry about your little _personal grievances_? Miss Swan, there are _lives_ to be lost if you don’t get over it. You don’t have to like it, but _your_ return started this war. _You’re_ ending it,” growls Regina straightening even further. 

“God, you’re one to talk. How’d you figure that,  _ your majesty _ ?” spits back Emma. “How the hell can you blame  _ me  _ for this? Why is it all on  _ me _ ? I had no part in coming here and I had no part starting this damn war you’re all obsessed with!”

Emma’s breathing in short burst as she finishes her rant, glaring at the woman fiercely. She has a nasty sneer on her face and her heart hurts a little at the words, but she can’t bring herself to take them back or stand down as she’s facing this woman. Regina always brought this side out in her.

“ _ You _ may not have known,” she says coldly, turning to Snow, “but  _ she  _ did.” 

“Not every thing's Snows fault, Regina,” she scoffs. Her tone matches the harshness, but it’s more drained. 

“Is it when she knowingly sent the  _ savior  _ to the  _ homeland _ ?” Regina stands, leaning over the table. “Tell me Snow, you remembered who  _ Adrestia  _ is. Does that mean you remember the  _ savior _ who starts the  _ war _ when she enters the  _ homeland _ ?”  

“Those were just stories, Regina. Tales to scare children. I couldn’t have known they were true,” she defends, not bothering to deny it. There’s a look in her eye, she’s hiding something, but Emma isn’t sure what. “Plus, Emma already came here once and nothing happened. You can’t blame me for any of this. If anything I should blame you-”

“You’re a goddamned  _ fairy tale _ character,  _ Snow White _ ! Why is a prophecy from  _ Idalre Corvia _ suddenly fiction?” sneers the same redheaded woman- Zelena, if she heard right. 

“Idalre Corvia?” in a Snow like fashion, she gasps dramatically and stumbles slightly like this admission rocked the very earth she stands on. 

“What the hell are you on about now? What prophecy? My job as savior was to break her,” she huffs, pointing to Regina, “damn curse. Not start or stop or  _ whatever _ a damn war. Who the hell is Iditarod Corporal!? This all makes no sense and I could really use some answers!” 

“Oh, dear. They never told you of your potential did they? How dreadful,” sighs the blonde woman, shaking her head in mock sadness. 

She knows its a rhetorical question, but Emma can’t help but answer with an exasperated, “Yeah! They really didn’t!”

Regina cuts in. 

“As fun as this is, we have more pressing matters. A war for starters?” 

“So you keep mentioning,” mutters Emma. Regina shoots her a look, but doesn’t pay her much mind beyond that.  

“Anyways,” she says loudly, “Snow White, Miss Swan, i’d like you to meet Ursula, Maleficent, Elowen, Zelena, Anastasia, and Cybele. The women who are going to help us win this war.” 

 

\-- -- 

 

Having been kicked out of the war room, Emma finds herself being escorted to another wing of the castle alongside her mother. The halls of the castle are all similar, making her question how far they’ve actually walked. 

For all the ways this day could have turned out, she really hadn’t imagined the possibility of a thought to be dead evil woman supposedly ruling a land of fairytale characters alongside the Disney villains. By proxy, she hadn’t imagined she’d be sent her room like a scolded child by said woman after throwing ‘one to many tantrums’. 

“So, how long have you been working here?” questions her mother in her typical friendly manner. It’s moments like these she questions if there was a birth mix up, if she isn’t actually the savior child of Snow White and Prince Charming. Both her parents always have a need to make conversation with strangers they’ll probably never see again, but she has  _ no _ inclinations to do anything like that. 

“Three years,” says the blonde woman leading them. She frowns slightly to herself as she takes another minute to think. “It’s preferable to breaking your back in the fields.”

Snow nods along in seemingly perfect understanding, which is weird seeing as Snow was-is a queen. From what she knows of those days on the run, they weren’t exactly that difficult either. 

“Your family were farmers?” 

“Yes, best potatoes in the land if I do say so myself. Her majesty, Adrestia, often had us provide for her events in the old days.”

“Well I take it you’re not doing that anymore. What happened?” 

“I had a falling out with my family and came here. I was offered a job here and took it.” 

“What do you normally do, then?” Snow asks. “I imagine escorting  _ her majesty's _ enemies can’t be a full time job.” 

“You’d be surprised,” she laughs fondly. “My job is primarily to teach Delthea self-defense, actually. Well, not just her. I work as a trainer, but she is my primary student.” 

Who exactly is Delthea? Is she a lover? A friend? Neither make much sense. In all her time of knowing the woman, the only person Regina was ever friendly with was Henry. Though, perhaps things have changed seeing how friendly she is with those six women plus Guinevere and Robyn. 

“Delthea?” asks Snow, practically bursting with curiosity. It’s strange this is what she finds interesting in a land completely torn from what she used to know. Though, not really if she thinks about it. Delthea is a completely new concept, nothing to compare to, unlike like her utterly changed homeland. 

“Yeah, Delthea. We all know that girl could out maneuver a trained soldier,” she replies, clearly mistaking the question for something else. “I’m not sure why she requires self defence classes, but her majesty insists.” 

“Who is-”

The woman stops and opens the door to a room. She motions for them to enter. There's a medium sized bed, a loveseat, and large wardrobe next to a door, but it isn’t much more. 

“The bathroom is there through the door if you need it. I hope the bed is large enough to suit both you, but if it isn’t just give a yell and I can try and gather some cushions for the chair. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call,” she says. Emma glances at her mother questioningly who makes a gesture as to wave it off. Knowing her mother, that probably means she’ll be sleeping on the loveseat. 

“This’ll be fine, thanks,” says Emma. The woman smiles and leaves. The castle is silent besides the clacking of her shoes growing more and more distant.  

 

\-- -- 

 

The sounds of other kids playing fills the town square. It’s dark and he can't quite see any of them playing on the streets, but he can hear giggling from the open windows and of the houses. A few candles in the windows and bright stars in the sky light the way as well, but for the most part it’s shadowy. 

Sneaking out of their camp was a lot easier than he’d anticipated. With Ruby and grandpa both helping people settle in to their makeshift camp, the two best trackers weren’t exactly watching him closely. He’d be back before they knew he was gone, though, so no harm done he’d figured. 

Walking through the stone paved streets is like entering a story from his book. The houses are wooden with chimneys blowing out smoke and the air smells of baked goods. 

“You can’t defeat me! I am Ares! God of War!” yells a boy about his age dressed in pretend armor. He’s holding a long stick as a sword and standing in a fighting stance. He and a girl are playing in a small dirt clearing between two buildings.  

“Yes I can! I am Adrestia!” cries a younger girl wearing a messy makeshift black dress. The girl leans down and gathers a handful of dirt. “Prepare to meet my fireball!” 

She grins as she throws it at him. A cloud of dust fills the air surrounding them, making her cough. He tries to dodge the cloud, but stumbles as his eyes blink rapidly to clear away the dirt. 

“Oh no!” He dramatically clutches his chest. “I’ve been slayed!” he says, trying to blink away the dirt in his eyes. 

“You bet!” The girl laughs and coughs. She jumps over to help her brother up. He stumbles as she pulls on his arm, helping him stand, but they’re both laughing lightly and full of joy. The boy looks up. 

“Hey!” calls the boy as Henry moves to walk away, “Wanna join us?”

Henry freezes for a minute. Back in Storybrooke no one ever really asked him to play, what is he supposed to do? After a minute of thinking, he shrugs to himself and walks over. 

“Yeah, sure. What are you doing?” he asks. 

As he gets closer, he notices their clothes are much more tattered and muddy than he’d first thought. Both have dirty blonde hair, or perhaps just blonde but they’re too muddy to tell. Still, their eyes are bright with joy and he can’t help but smile.

“Louise and me was just playing out the final battle. Momma says they’re all myths to make the empress look really cool, but dad says she’s even more powerful than what the books say. He saw the final battle with his own eye, you know! Did you know fire can’t hurt her? Ares threw a fireball at her and she just… absorbed it or something, I think. I’m not sure about water, though. Mom says water melts witches,” rambles the boy. 

“Shush, you’re freakin’ him out!” hisses the girl lightly slapping his arm. “You and your jabbering.” 

“Hey! It’s not my fault you ain’t smart like me. I pay attention,” he teases before a look of realization passes. “Wait, you’re one of those newcomers right? Momma said somethin’ about new people hangin’ around. Your clothes are different looking. I bet you’ve never even heard of Adrestia.” 

“Nope,” he replies with shrug. “She sounds like a pretty cool hero, though.” 

“We gotta fix that. That just wont do," says the boy gravely. "You gotta know her.” 

“Yeah!” Louise nods seriously. “She’s very cool. I mean, the stories are pretty exager-ma-rated, but lady’s cool. Benny, we should show...!” 

“Henry.” 

“Nice to meet you, Henry. Would you hear about our lord and savior, Adrestia?” Benny asks. 

“I can’t tell if you’re being serious or not. I wouldn’t put it past you to call her a lord and savior,” she mutters to herself. He glares at her in mock anger and turns back to Henry.  

Henry gives a nod and Benny scampers down the street to a small house. It looks like it’s made of logs and stones with cloth covering an open window. He emerges out a few moments later with a small brown book under his arm. He runs over and holds out the book. 

“I know it by heart, you can borrow it,” he says. “You gotta bring it back, though. Or else i’ll find an’ fight you, yeah?” 

Henry nods obediently and takes the book. It’s got a leather cover like his storybook with the words ‘ _ Seven Devils _ ’ written in gold on the cover. Henry looks up questioningly. 

“It’s got all the stories of Adrestia. An some history stuff. They’re all true.” 

“No they’re not,” scoffs Louise. 

“Shut up, I didn’t ask you.” 

Curious, he flips open to the first page. “I can’t read this,” he says a beat later. 

“You dunno know elvish?” The boy squints at him disbelieving. Henry nods. “It’s fine, you can just meet me behind there,” he points back to the house, “in the yard and i’ll help ya. Just wait for me by that tree.” 

“Nerds,” mutters the girl between fake coughs. Benny glares at her. 

“ _ Benjamin! Louise! _ ” A burly figure stands outside the house calling for them. 

“Ah sorry, we gotta go,” apologizes Benny. “Meet me by where I told you in the morning!” 

“Okay,” Henry agrees. Benny gives him a thumbs up and the siblings run home. 

 

\-- 

 

Emma sighs and thumps onto the bed dramatically. It’s comfortable in every way- much like Regina’s bed at the mansion- but then again, what did she expect from  _ Regina _ . The woman would probably have a heart attack if someone made her sleep on a low-quality anything. 

“So,” awkwardly drawls her mother, taking a seat on the edge of the bed beside her. “Today has been an interesting day.” 

“Mhm,” hums Emma, more set on enjoying the bed than discussing the mess that was the last twenty four hours. They sit in silence for a beat. 

“Are you upset about us not telling you about the prophecy?” questions Snow with a frown. Emma isn’t given a chance to reply before she’s defending herself, “It’s not my fault, you know? How was I supposed to know? It’s not like I planned any of this. Why would I?”

Truth be told, Emma had actually forgot about that. Her mind was so filled with questions regarding  _ Regina _ she’d forgotten about a  _ war _ .  _ “A fucking war is upon us and you’re angry about your little personal grievances?” _ Regina had said and she’d be right. It was time to get her head in the game. 

“No,” she says with a sigh turning over on her side. “I would like to know what that's all about, though. I’m kinda working with nothing here.”

Snow takes a deep breath and explains, “It’s part of an old story that Regina used to tell me. I was a child. Or, I thought it was just a story, I guess. Sometimes, i’d have nightmares and she’d tell me stories.“

Emma swears she can hear some kind of longing in her mother's voice as she talks about ‘the good ol’ days’. 

“Once upon a time, in a time long before the dawn, lived the seven devils. Or angels, as some believed them to be. They were giant in size, towering above the realms they’d created and the lives they’d birthed. However, their children grew greedy and slayed them to become the new gods. The youngest creation, Zeus, lead the revolt alongside his brothers and sisters and became the new king of the gods.

“As he roamed the earth, he came across a beautiful creature. It’s stunning blue front and exotic feathered tail drew him in. He turned her human and married the animal, Hera. However, he grew unfaithful as other beautiful things appeared. Out of jealousy, Hera sought to destroy her husband.

“She sought out a creature called a seer, a human like creature who told the utter truth of the future... and she found the original apparently, Idalre Corvia. The seer told Hera not the future, but the weakness of her husband. Power. 

“She gave a prophecy that, if acted upon, would destroy her husband. Well, not necessarily her husband but if purposely acted upon it would destroy a target of sorts. I’m not sure how to explain it but anyways, it gave three ‘mortal gods’. The Divine, the Adrestia, and the Tribune. Or, as they’re better also known, The Destroyer, The Adrestia, and The Savior. 

“The Destroyer would bring pain while the Savior brought relief, and both would be balanced by the Adrestia; the lord of revolt and the sublime balance between good and evil.” She’s lost in memories as she continues, “The start is the only thing set in stone. There is no ending, either could win. Anyways, it essentially goes the Adrestia will falter between great evil and goodness before a balance is struck. When balance is struck, the sinner will be discovered and the savior will return to the homelands. Once she returns, the war of the gods will begin and the target will be fought.”

“You know? All of this sounds insane and i’m really having a hard time taking any of this seriously,” says Emma conversationally. “Like come on? A prophecy with a chosen one? It isn’t that creative. I mean, if you’re gonna destroy the world as we know it and wage war against humanity at least be creative about it.”  

“I’m sorry this war isn’t fun enough for you. I’ll be sure to make it more creative next time,” Snow snaps out. They’re both taken aback at the outburst. “I'm so, so sorry. I don’t know what came over me. Oh lords. I’m sorry-” 

“It’s fine,” Emma cuts her off. “We’ve had a long day. Let’s just go to sleep,” she says already slipping off the bed and to the loveseat. 

“No-” 

“Can’t hear you. I’m asleep.” Ironically enough, that’s true mere moments later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nobody: 
> 
> emma: what (and i cannot stress this enough) the fuck is going on


	4. A Fox Called Me a Dumbass

It isn’t the worst place she could be. For instance, she could’ve been sent to the library to do research with Maleficent and Cybele like her mother. Tending to the animals was definitely preferable to research. At least, it is when a nine tailed fox isn’t critiquing your every move in high pitched chirps and yaps. 

“We get it, Mako!” chuckles a blonde woman from across the field. Elowen, one of the women she’d seen in the war room. “Believe me, I know she’s unqualified to care for you guys.” 

The fox seems to  _ pout _ \- a  _ fox… _ goddamned  _ pouting  _ at someone. This entire world just becomes more and more of a fever dream the longer she stays _.  _ It chirps loudly. 

“‘Gina said I gotta put her to work.” She gives the fox a look as it opens its mouth. “You and I both know she isn’t getting anywhere near my garden. If she’s half as clumsy as she seems, half my babies will be wilted by next week.”

“Hey!” objects Emma with her own pout. The woman raises an eyebrow as if to say ‘are you really trying to deny that’ and goes back to feeding of phoenixes their morning meal. At that, Emma turns back to the qilin and large cat, dumping a bucket filled with gods know what in front of them. They stare at her unimpressed. 

“What?” she asks, suddenly feeling self conscious. Which is  _ insane _ because these are  _ animals  _ judging her. Animals who can’t even speak beyond chirps. “Am I supposed to feed you a gourmet meal?”  

They nod. They goddamn nod at that all expectantly as if she was going to magically whip up food for them. Emma is going to punch something before this day is done at this rate. She’d thought  _ magic _ and  _ gods  _ were insane but now animals are actually criticizing her and complaining to their owner like she’s some horrible room service at a five star hotel. 

“You know what?” she says with a sarcastic smile. “That's it. You get your wish. I’m done!” 

She throws her hands up, turning to stomp away only to be stopped by Elowen. She’s looking at her chastingly with hands on her hips. She doesn’t even ask if Emma’s okay when she jumps back in surprise. How these women keep seemingly teleporting across fields silently, she’ll never know. She does, however, know it’s starting to get annoying. 

“No,” she scolds like Emma’s one of her mythical misbehaving cerberus puppies. “You are going to man up and work. Else i’ll make your sorry ass join the dragons in the library.” 

That really shouldn’t be a threat, but to Emma, a woman who loathes research more than eating healthy, it’s a death sentence. With a sigh, she turns back to the stupid animals who are still looking at her expectantly. She’s going to ignore it and just feed the damn animals, she decides. 

It works for a while. The two blondes just feed the animals in silence. That is, until Mako chirps something particularly funny and Elowen flat out cackles at it. She’s nearly wheezing by the time she’s done. 

“Mako, that’s just mean,” she half-heartedly scolds with another wheeze. “She’s trying to help.” She clutches her side as she tries not to burst laughing out again. 

“Yeah Mako,” scoffs Emma under her breath handing a two headed snake some kind of berry. It’s like a raspberry except for it’s neon blue coloration. “Maybe you should just shut up.” 

“Emma! That isn’t very nice,” chatizes Elowen. 

“How the hell did you even hear that?!” squeaks Emma. She looks at the woman with wide, exasperated eyes. There really is no winning here. 

“Former Kitsune.” She points to her ears. “Still have some stuff like hearing.” 

“Former Kitsune?” questions Emma blankly. “How- how does that even work? You’re… human,” she splutters out. 

She wants to slap herself the minute it comes out of her mouth because  _ duh _ . Way to point out the obvious. 

“Kitsunes have nine lives, one for each tail. We’re a product of faes breedin’ with foxes,” begins the woman and it’s clearly not her first time explaining this all to someone. “I made a deal with the Dark One years ago. He told me some mumbo jumbo about outrunning death and I ate it up. When I lost my ninth I was turned human instead of dying.”

“You’re saying you’ve died nine times?” asks Emma somewhat skeptically. “Doesn’t that like hurt? I mean that can’t be pleasant.” 

“I mean, it depends how you die really.”

“I can’t believe i’m going to say this sentence out loud but,” she pinches the bridge of her nose, “how have you, a former fox, died?”

“They’re all long stories, really.” 

“I’ve got time.” Emma grabs and shakes a filled bucket of food making her point. 

“I’m sure ya do.” She winks and goes back to work. 

“So,” she tries again, “What’s it like to die?”

“Interesting,” she says. She freezes for a minute and seemingly searches for the right words. “Let me just say, Regina’s grandmother is not a pleasant woman and leave it at that.” 

That just brings more questions like ‘what the hell does she have to do with this?’ or ‘who is she?’. As if sensing her questions, Elowen adds, “If you want to know about  _ her,  _ ask ‘Gina. Or Ana. Or Lena. It’s their story to tell.” 

Why does she have a sinking feeling that this story is related to this war? 

 

\-- 

 

The tree is larger than anything he’s ever seen. From afar, it’s nothing out of the ordinary, but up close he’s realizing its towering above the house. He has the book in one hand as he walks towards the boy leaned against the tree. There’s a latter next to his head leading up to a treehouse. 

“Hello,” he greets waving his free hand. Benny looks up and smiles back. 

“Hey! I see yous gots my book.” He stands and wipes the dirt off his pants. “Ready to hear about the greatest most best hero of all time?” 

“Yep,” Henry says with a nod. 

“Ok so just follow me,” says Benny already climbing. The latter is wobbly from the loose ropes and boards, but it isn’t too fear inducing to climb. Benny pulls himself through a hole in the tree house floor and reaches out a hand to help Henry. 

He takes it and clumsily makes his way up as well. The treehouse is small. Granted, he has nothing to compare it to seeing as his only experience with them was TV he watched with his temporary evil caregiver, but it’s a comfy space. 

There are drawings going from stick figures to life like paintings and paragraphs of text he doesn’t understand lining the walls above the splayed out outfits he saw yesterday. Benny takes a seat in front of the only window and pats the floor by him. Henry sits beside him and hands over the book. 

“So, where should we start?” he asks. 

“The beginning?” suggests Henry. 

“Of the universe or Adrestia?” questions Benny. 

“Adrestia.” Though, he’ll have to ask about the universe later. 

Benny nods to himself and flips through the backend till he reaches a drawing of a familiar feathered mask. “This is her mask. It’s a raven-” 

“I’ve seen her before. She was there when we first got here. My… Em-mom and grandma had to help her with something.” Benny’s head shoots up. 

“Really?” asks Benny eagerly. “That’s so cool. Oh my gods! I wish I woulda been there!” 

“Yeah, it was pretty cool I guess.” He shrugs. There’s a strange feeling stirring in his gut about her. It’s not negative, but nor is is positive. It just… was. 

“What was she like? Was she six feet tall like the book says? Was she wearing her feathered cape? What she say?” his new friend rapidly questions. 

Henry frowns in thought. “I mean she wasn’t there long so I dunno. She wasn’t six feet tall, she was actually kinda short. She was wearing the cape, yeah. And she didn’t say much. Just something about needing their help with something.”

Benny nods in perfect understanding. “Something very heroic and cool. I’m sure o’ it” Henry shrugs. “It’s good that ya know what she looks like, though. I won't have to point her out constantly, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he agrees. 

“Okay, back to the book,” says Benny turning his attention back. “So, you already know, but this is her mask. It’s a raven mask ‘cause her symbols a raven and stuff,” he explains. 

“How’d that happen?” Benny gives him a confused look. “Like, how did it become her symbol. Does her name mean raven or something? Or did she just wear the mask. Is there a story behind it?” 

Benny pauses to think for a moment. “I never thought ‘bout that how stuff… I dunno. That’s a good question. Her mask, though, I know the story there.” 

“Oh?” 

“In the second year of the war-” 

“Wait, what war?” cuts in Henry. Grandma never mentioned any wars in her stories. The book didn’t either. Unless you count the Evil Queen’s reign against Snow White as war. 

“The war of the gods. It’s what Adrestia fought. She fell out of the sky nearly a decade go to fight it.”

“You know, that name sounds kinda familiar.” Henry frowns trying to figure out where he’s heard it before. “I dunno,” he says after a minute. He’ll have to figure it out later. 

“I dunno either but anyways, during the second year, Hera done burned anything she could reach to the ground. With aid from the Dragon Queen and Jabberwocky, they was able to defeat Hera but she fled before they could catch her.” 

“But what about the mask?”

“I’m getting to that. So, Adrestia used to wear a veil. She was known as the veiled woman, but Hera burned it so she bought a cheap mask off a merchant,” he summarizes.

“That’s kinda anti-climatic,” comments Henry. 

“I mean, I guess if you just think ‘bout the mask. The battle is cool though. And heroic.” 

“Yeah,” he agrees, “it is, isn’t it?” 

  
  
  


\--

 

The castle isn’t that hard to navigate… is something she wishes she could say. For the third time in five minutes, Emma finds herself passing the same ship painting. She groans. There are vague voices coming from somewhere, but she cannot for the life of her figure out where the hell they’re coming from. 

“Why are you doing this to me? Can I get a break? Please?” she begs the painting. “Help me out here.” 

She hits the wall in frustration. Her eyes widen and she stumbles back. The wall fades away revealing an open doorway leading into the library. “Finally!” 

Her mother looks up curiously from the center table she’s sat at. She’s sat between bookshelves beside two blonde women. She says woman loosely though because she’s 99% sure they’re dragon shapeshifters. 

“What are you doing here?” says one. The jabberwocky, Cybele, if her expressionless eyes and limp, dead hair are anything to go from. 

“Elowen told me to come here. We finished for the day.” A beat. “I think.” 

“My the time has passed,” remarks the other blonde, Maleficent the witch lady from Sleeping Beauty. She kind of reminds Emma of a blue eyed blonde Regina. She’s got the same ‘I’m better than you’ vibe.

“Yeah, I guess. So, can I like go lay down or?” 

“I suppose,” drawls Maleficent. 

“Thank god,” breathes out Emma. 

“Why would you thank them? We’re trying to fight them.” Cybele narrows her eyes suspiciously. 

“Figure of speech. Hold your horses.”

“Why would I hold horses-” 

“Figure of speech, sister.” Cybele nods her understanding. 

“Not that this isn’t lovely, but i’m gonna…” she gestures to the doorway. She turns but halts mid step. 

“Wait! I’ll come with you. I need to grab something from the room,” says Snow. 

“Okay,” Emma says with a confused expression. Last time she checked they didn’t actually bring anything (which, in retrospect, might be poor planning), but who knows. 

The pair exit the room, the illusion of a wall fading over the doorway as they pass through. They turn to the right and exit the hall. It’s so unbelievably wonderful to see different paintings and designs as they walk to their room. If she ever sees a ship painting again, she’ll probably burn it.

“Sorry. I just needed a break,” explains Snow once they’re out of hearing distance. 

“Understandable,” Emma replies because it is. If she was locked in a room forced to read history books she’d probably lose it. They don’t say anything else for the rest of the short walk. 

They reach the room and Emma wordlessly opens the door and walks in. She sits on the loveseat and props her feet up, glad to finally relax. 

“Well, I better be getting back now,” says Snow. 

“Probably. Wouldn’t want them sending a search party,” agrees Emma. 

“See you at dinner.” The door shuts quietly behind her. 

“Wait, where is the dining hall?” says Emma after a beat.  

 

\--

 

She can hear chattering voices as she enters the dining hall. She can make out Snow and a few other women but that isn’t what she’s focused on. After spending the day with animals, a good meal is the least of what she was owed really and the smells coming from the hall are promising something good.

“...really?” says Snow taking a seat at the end of the table, enamored in her conversation with the woman across from her at the largest table. She’s got seashells in her blonde hair and a sea green dress on but it’s not as ungodly as some of the exaggerated dresses women are wearing at the other tables around them. “It must be interesting to live underwater.” 

“Yeah, I guess,” she agrees with a nod. She frowns in thought. “Wait… not really. It’s actually very similar to this. With more fish-tailed idiots, of course.” That earns a few chuckles around the table.  

“Says the one who married a ‘fish-tailed idiot’,” Zelena teases with a joyful smile. 

“Hey!” objects the woman in mock-offence stealing a handful of something from her plate. “The only one who calls my idiot an idiot is me, Zelena!” she says with a mouthful. 

“Dear,” chuckles Regina leaning back in her chair, “everyone calls that fish for brains an idiot, it’s just usually not to your faces.” 

“Why ‘Gina,” gasps the woman dramatically, placing a hand over her heart. “Are you getting soft on me? The woman I met all those years ago made it her personal mission to insult me to my face.” 

“I will destroy your happiness-” she starts to growl, cut off by the woman’s fond mocking.

“-if it’s the last thing you do if I call you soft again? Yeah, yeah. We get it. Does someone pay you every time you say that?” 

“Yes, actually,” she deadpans. “I bought a farm with all the gold last summer. A few horses, a cow or two, you know the works.” 

They all burst into laughter at her and they’re all lost in in it as Emma takes a seat at the end of the table beside her mother. Ten other woman and Regina are sitting at it, but Emma can only name a handful. Elowen sits beside Guinevere across from Emma, Robyn sitting beside Zelena and a pale, long haired brunette woman. Next to her mother are another two blonde women who look related with Regina at the end of their row beside a blonde woman in red. All in all, she doesn’t really know who anyone is or what's going on and it feels like the first lunch at a new school. 

“Would you look at what the cat dragged in,” coyly drawls the woman in red. Emma can’t remember her name, but it’s the same woman who was sat beside Regina on her first day here. Her expression is mocking, cold really, as she studies Emma. 

“I’m actually a fox, Anastasia,” interjects Elowen. “And I didn’t drag her in. She came in on her own as you just witnessed. I didn’t take her by the heels and drag her in here.” 

Anastasia slowly turns her head to the other blonde with a raised eyebrow, unimpressed expression. 

“It’s a figure of speech, love,” informs Guinevere with a touch of humor. Elowens eyes widen in realization and sheepishly smiles at Anastasia. The other blondes aloof demeanor slowly cracks letting an amused smile play on her lips for moment. It disappears as she turns back to Emma. 

“So, Miss Swan, how was your day?” she asks with a feigned disinterest taking a sip of wine. 

“Not that you actually want to know, but interesting. Can’t say i’ve ever met a talking snake until today,” says Emma. She looks at the food on the table and frowns when she can’t see a single pastry. “Hey, where’s the good stuff?” 

“What a shame,” Anastasia mutters under her breath. “Xenos didn’t bite her.” 

“Play nice,” chides Regina half-heartedly with an small twitch of the lips. It was probably the largest genuine smile Emma’s ever seen on that woman's face. “We don’t serve artery clogging filth here, Miss Swan. I’d prefer to have my people live, after all. Would you care for some roast swan instead?” 

Emma can’t designate a response to that before the doors are bursting open revealing a crying, small brunette girl. Her olive toned skin and face are shockingly familiar. 

“Mommy?” she whimpers out weakly, legs swaying as she grips the door frame. She looks frail and helpless as she clings to it. 

“Delthea!” Regina stumbles out of her chair towards her in a beat. The glass of wine she was drinking shatters on the floor and the chair falls over, but she pays it no mind. She scoops the girl as she’s ready to collapse and frantically moves the messy hair from her face. “Delthea? Thea?” 

“M-mommy,” murmurs the girl weakly. 

“Shh, shh. You’ll be alright darling,” she coos softly. She looks over at them, a rabid look in her eyes, “We need help. Please. Get help.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i cant stop giggling at jokes i keep making about this fic but i cant share any yet because their spoilers the agony i am in


	5. Hush Little Darling, Don't Say A Word

 

The next hours pass in a blur of desperation and frantic efforts to help the child. _Delthea_ . Somehow, in all of her thoughts regarding Delthea, it never crossed Emma’s mind that she could be Regina’s _daughter_.

Looking back, it makes the most sense, but it also brings questions Emma isn’t sure she wants answers to. Things such as ‘is this child a replacement for Henry?’ or ‘why do you even have a child’. Is she adopted? A biological child? She looks so much like her it’s hard to believe she isn’t a biological child. Then again, Henry also looks directly related to her sometimes.

Emma makes her way down to the medical ward, the room Regina hasn’t left in hours. If she is going to get some _semblance_ of answers, it was probably going to be from Regina. If she’ll even answer them period, let alone truthfully, is another matter.

Voices leak through the hall as she approaches.

“-supplies by tomorrows nightfall,” Regina instructs. “In my absence, Guinevere and Elowen are to watch over Delthea. I want at least two guards always with her. Always. You are also going to make sure your mother stays and rules her damn kingdom instead of following us.”

“Of course, auntie.” She can practically hear the exaggerated, eager nod coming from Robyn. “Alice's crew is preparing the _Leviathan_. Was I correct to assume three people would be on the voyage? I mean of course you and Miss Swan are going, but I hope I was right in assuming Snow White will want to come?”

“I would imagine so,” Regina confirms. “Unless Miss Swan would enjoy being destroyed, she and her insipid mother will be joining me. As much as a loathe it, this isn’t a solo mission.”

“No need to be so morbid!” scolds Robyn. “If this goes as planned, we’ll have them sent to Tartarus before any lives are lost. We have a good couple of weeks before the moon is full.”

“Oh yes, don’t forget to have your aunt and mother put up barrier spells. Chances are they’ll send armies to weaken us before the main attack,” says Regina as Emma enters the room as quietly as she can. Regina turns to give her a brief dirty look so it clearly wasn’t that quiet, but turns back to Robyn. “In the unlikely event they launch a main attack before full moon and we are still away, you are to put up barriers and release Xonchurr.”

Robyn gawks wordlessly at her. Emma furrows her brow. “Why is it unlikely they’ll attack after the full moon?”

Regina looks at her like she’s an utter idiot for asking before answering, “The full moon is the strongest time for magic, didn’t your mother teach you that? Their magic is weak from being separated so long, they likely know they couldn’t take us in their current state. Ares isn’t a fool, he surely wouldn’t risk it. Besides the magic, there are too many precautions in place.”

“He’s still the former god of war. That isn’t something you gain from passivity,” counters Robyn.

“Bloodlust doesn’t make you a fool-”

“Former? How can someone be a former god? Who’s the new god of war? Shouldn’t we be trying to fight them too?” interjects Emma.

“Actually,” Robyn points at her aunt, “She’d be considered the goddess of war, so no.”

Emma’s eyes bulge.

“It’s not like what you’re thinking,” Regina says, rubbing her temple like this entire conversation is as taxing as running a marathon. “In most cases ‘god’ is simply a title a magic user wins in the simplest terms. It’s not limitless power. I fought Ares and won, therefore I am the god of war in his place, nothing more. The problem however, arises when they think it is more than a title.”

Emma nods thoughtfully as she digest this information. Regina _isn’t_ some kind of tyrannical war goddess who she needs to save the masses from and that’s probably for the best of everyone involved.

“As I was saying,” continues Regina, annoyance lacing her tone, “You are to release Xonchurr in the event of an early attack. And before you object- I know what we agreed on, but if they think they can hurt Delthea… If they think they can _touch_ a single hair on her head, I will burn them alive.”

All these questions are starting to make her feel dumb, but she isn’t any less confused. it seems to be common knowledge for everyone _but_ her. It’s only her fear of being called annoying that holds her back from asking, but she got over that long ago so she can’t help but ask, “What is ‘Ex-on-choar’? What did you agree on? What are these consequences they’re going to face? You aren’t going to go on a mass murder spree again, are you?”

“You know what?” Regina snaps, jumping to her feet. “I am tired, stressed, and don’t have the time to deal with your damn questions right now, Swan. Robyn, you are to take care of the rest of the voyage arrangements. Now if you’d be so kind, get out!”

At the murderous glint in her eye, the pair jolt to the door and quickly scramble away.

“So…” drawls Emma awkwardly as they reach the end of the hall. “Would you be able to answer my questions?”

\--

 

Henry can’t help but stare as the boy across from him excitedly rambles about his hero.

“-then she looked the cat straight in the eye and said, ‘bow, lord Xonchurr’. He was so shocked by her courage he bowed his head. Then, the seven queens done ambushed him, putting on a magical collar. He and the collar shrunk a good thirty sizes smaller and was tied to the land he was conquered in,” he enthusiastically retells with an almost manic grin.

The book is laid on the floor in front of Henry with a drawing on one side of an unnaturally coloured giant tiger with what almost seemed to be planets orbiting him titled, _Lord_ _Xonchurr, The God Eater_.

The tree house walls are painted with endless feats of Adrestia, but none of them tell much about Xonchurr. At least, that’s what he can gather from the illustrations. Which wouldn’t be strange if it wasn’t one of her biggest achievements according to Benny.

“If he’s such a big deal, why isn’t he mentioned more?” questions Henry with a frown and gestures to the walls. “Correct me if i’m missing something here, but I don’t think any of these mention him.”

“Well, I guess yous need some history on him to explain it, yeah? Xonchurr is an ancient creature, almost as old as our worlds creators.” Henry frowns again, but Benny pays him little mind, “He was kept as a pet by them, but when they was slayed he grew vengeful. He started by consuming their children, minor deities, whole, but soon grew to loath all their creations. Each time they tried to create worlds and realms, he destroyed them. So they created a world an endless distance away so he couldn’t destroy it. He was left floating through the skies looking for it, until the first gods war when everything collided together into one realm and he was transported over. Some people just don’t believe he’s real and a lot of others like to try and forget him so he really ain’t mentioned a lot.”

“Woah,” mumbles Henry. “He seems kind of evil. Good thing Adrestia trapped him.”

“No, I don’t think he’s really evil,” says Benny.

“Good people don’t do that,” argues Henry.

“He wasn't exactly a person,” points out Benny. He shakes his head, “That’s not the point, though. I think he was just hurtin’. Those people took away everyone he loved. He felt like they needed to pay for it.”

“That doesn’t mean he can just kill people,” scoffs Henry.

“No, it doesn’t,” agrees Benny. “But, he ain’t _evil_. He just needed someone to show him he don’t have to hurt people to be happy,” he quickly adds at Henry’s smug look of victory.

“But he kills people!” huffs Henry, “That’s evil!”

“Good people can do bad things.”

“And bad people can do bad things.”

“Adrestia killed people.”

“Yeah, but she’s a hero.”

“Says who?”

“You. And the book.”

“Why does the book decide who is and isn’t a hero? How do you even become a hero?”

“You do good things.”

“But what if an evil person does a lot of good things.”

“They’re still a villain.”

“What if they try to redeem themself?”

“I don’t know if they can.”

“But heroes forgive everyone, don’t they? What if the hero thinks the villain is redeemed?”

“They’re… still a villain?” It comes out as more of a question than statement.

“I don’t think so.” Benny shakes his head. “But, I don’t think we’re gettin’ anywhere. Why don’t we just go back to Adrestia?”

Henry nods his agreement and Benny smiles.

“So, once upon a time a woman named Adrestia fell from the sky…”

\--  

 

Emma knocks on the door tentatively. There's a mumbled ‘come in’ and she enters the room.

“I’m sorry for snapping earlier,” says Regina sitting in a chair beside Deltheas bed. She doesn’t take her eyes off the girl for a moment.

“No, you’re not,” Emma snorts with a strange fondness.

“You’re right, I’m not. However, I don’t wish for any unnecessary conflict.”

“Wow, you really have changed, huh?” Emma mumbles to herself.

“Excuse me?” Regina arches an eyebrow.

“Nothing.” Emma takes a seat on the other side of the girls bed. “It’s okay, though.”

Regina lets out a questioning hum.

“Your kids’ in danger, you’re stressed and all about that. I get it. I was being annoying. I probably would’ve done the same. Plus, it’s not like I’m a stranger to you yelling at me.” She offers a light smile.

“No,” argues Regina firmly. “That’s not who I want to be anymore. I shouldn’t have snapped. Everyone is stressed and we don’t need internal conflict. There’s already too much stress.”

“You can say that again,” mirthlessly chuckles the blonde. If one word could describe this land, it’s stress. The stress of a title she never wanted, the stress of saving people she’s never heard of, the stress of a journey across seas apparently. Speaking of which, “You never did actually ask us if we wanted to join you on the voyage. Why’d you assume i’d just listen to you? Why would we trust you not to kill us while we’re out on the open sea? How do you know I don’t have a crippling fear of boats?”

“You trust that I value the life of my child and I trust you value your child's life as well as your own,”  she bluntly replies. “The Swan who broke my curse was an action type. Stubborn to commands, but she did not sit around and prepare defense when she could be engaging in the fight. If there’s authority to fight, you’ll fight it.”

“Yeah. That’s true, isn’t it?” Emma says with a slight smirk. “So we leave at nightfall? Did I hear that right?”

“Tomorrow’s nightfall, not tonight,” she corrects. A small smile forms on her face as her eyes drift towards the child again. Her daughter.

“So what's with her?” she blurts out. Her eyes widen at that and she quickly adds, “Not what happened. I know what happened, I was there when she was kinda poisoned and all... I mean what's with another child? What about Henry?”

At the mention of their- _Emma’s_ son’s name, her face falls into a blank mask and her shoulders tense. Emma almost regrets hurting the other woman, but she needs to start getting answers. There’s an suffocatingly awkward silence.

“I never wanted to leave him, you know,” she says at last. She’s staring blankly at the stone wall now, but she’s holding the tiny hand of her daughter as she speaks, “But when I escaped the underworld I knew trying contact him would have just brought you here. I couldn’t have that. He is my world, but I’d rather not have the deaths of countless people and creatures on my hands for my selfish desire to see a son who hates me. I want to be better. He deserves better.”

She sees red. In this moment, it doesn’t matter if Regina could or couldn’t come back. It all sounds like abandonment to Emma.

“Like you haven’t already killed countless innocent people. It’s a little late to be fighting for the greater good, your majesty. How could you just leave your son like that? Bitch,” the hissed remarks leave her mouth before she can think to stop it. Her mouth silently gapes at her own words, and she fights the urge to bury her head in her hands. “Regina, i’m sorry. I didn’t mean-”

“Is that what your mother told you? She was always too naive to see the full picture. Perhaps that book with a bias author.” She laughs dryly. It’s an empty, detached sound that makes Emma cringe.  “I will admit, I have killed more than i’d ever want to admit. I’m a monster, but their was always a reason. It doesn’t justify their deaths I suppose, but it’s better than meaningless violence.

“I don’t want to justify my actions, they don’t deserve it. But the world we come from is different. It’s not unspeakable to become a monster. It’s always been our way, really. But who are we to continue our way? Such a backwards society it is. Ladies can’t get dirty, maybe live to thirty.”

Emma can’t help be be captivated by the way this woman's words things at times, even if she doesn’t agree completely. Regina rambles more than her she’s come to notice, but they always come out so elegant and proper sounding with her smokey voice. It’s really not fair.

“Rumplestilskins first lesson to me was the fact nothing is innocent. Mother's first lesson to me was the fact love is a weakness. The King’s first lesson to me was the fact only the wolves survive,” she says conversationally. “That is our world. A world where if the wolves kill the sheep they’re the monsters but if the sheep kill the wolves they’re heroes. Neither is in the right, but still one is a hero and one is a villain. I have always been a wolf, Miss Swan, and your mother has always been a sheep.”

_What am I_ , she almost wants to ask but Regina’s talking again before she has the chance to think about voicing it, “A wolf hunts a flock of sheep. That’s a horrible crime, right? But then it’s revealed that the sheep have been hunting wolves from that creatures pack. Is the wolf justified or can a hunt never be justified? You see, it’s a tricky thing deciding what’s right or wrong. Who has the right to decide punishments? Who has the right to decide innocence? You see, innocence is never, and will never mean, the same thing to any two given people.”

“That’s great and all, but what do you want me to say here? I forgive you and I trust you because you see that murder is wrong?” she asks because what else is she supposed to say to all of this. The part that’s lived in a prison understands the tricky thing morality and ‘goodness’ is, but another part- the ‘good part’, as her parents would say- wants to argue. Against what, she isn’t exactly sure. She isn’t sure about a lot of things.

“You see, Miss Swan, that implies I seek forgiveness from _you_.” The tone is amused in a morbid kind of way. “I don’t. I don’t seek anything from you, truly.”  

Emma’s confusion at the simple statement must have been visible- or perhaps her anger or bitterness, she really isn’t sure what she’s feeling at this minute- because she continues, “The only forgiveness I will ever seek is from those who’ve been hurt by the actions, my dear. I am not a hero and will never be. I know this. I want to do better by them and for them.

“You heroes always believe your forgiveness is the ultimate absolution when it’s really not. Why would I care about your forgiveness when I have the option to earn the forgiveness or respect from those affected? Whether it be by bettering myself or repairing damage caused or anything above, below, or in between.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think everyone could use a good nap maybe a hug


	6. Thistle and Weeds

The next morning isn’t eventful in the slightest, but it’s still more ideal than doing research. They’re kneeling in the grass in the clearing in front of the castle with a basket of seeds, some trowels, and watering cans. She has Evelyn supervising- or, more accurately, breathing over her shoulder- her this time. She kind of reminds Emma of her mother with her dark hair and soft voice. Difference is, though, that her hair drops long past her shoulders and based on the little leaves sprouting from her skin, she’s probably a magical creature.

The seeds are long brown things with pale tips that poke at Emma's hand as she picks them up. She drops them into the small hole she's dug. 

“You’re doing that wrong,” says Evelyn the moment they hit the dirt.

Emma frowns in contemplation at her words. She didn’t know there was a wrong way to plant seeds. 

“You need to put the water in before the seed,” Evelyn explains. 

“Why? Isn’t the dirt gonna be damp either way?” 

“These are marigolds,” she says like it explains everything. It doesn’t and at Emma’s still confused expression she clarifies even further, “They’re magic based flowers. Instead of a spell, you have to plant them in a specific way or else they won’t bloom. They can sense if you do it wrong.” 

Even the plants here couldn’t be normal, could they? 

“Okay, then. I’ll fix it.” With one hand she claws the seeds back out and with the other she grabs a watering can. She pours a light splash into the small hole then throws the seeds back in. She uses her already dirt covered hand to cover it with more dirt. 

Almost instantly a small golden sprout springs. It glimmers in the sunlight like it’s made of solid gold. 

“Wow. That was fast,” Emma mumbles to herself. “How long do they take to grow?” 

“A week or so.” Another sprout springs from where Evelyn is working. The woman grins happily at the sight of it and moves on to the next. 

“Ah.” Emma nods, unsure of what to say. 

“It’s a little jarring when you’re used to waiting weeks upon weeks, but gosh are they gorgeous. The kids love to look at them.” 

“What what?” questions Emma, taken aback. “Did you say ‘the kids’?” 

Maybe she should start a drinking game. Everytime she learns something new she takes a shot. It might make everything make more sense, actually. 

“Yes, you see those doors,” Evelyn gestures to the three doors behind them, “Well, the on on the right is where they’ll be coming out soon. It’s almost time for the outdoors.” 

“Do they… live here or? What’s the deal there?” 

“I’m unsure if you’re aware, but this is the second half of a war, not a new war. During the first, my wife and Adrestia met quite a few children without homes. Our daughter Robyn was one of them, actually.” 

“Oh?” prompts Emma curiously. She never would’ve guessed with Robyn being the spitting image of Zelena and all that. 

“She tried to steal from Zelena. She was quite good at it, as well. You can imagine her surprise when she was caught,” she retells fondly. “Anyways, there are seven children being cared for here at the moment. Lovely kids, truly.” 

A part of her warms at the thought. It doesn’t surprise her completely if she’s honest, Regina always had a soft spot for kids, but it’s still… nice to hear they’re getting a better life than what she had. 

“If you’d like, I could introduce you to them,” offers Evelyn. 

“No, thanks,” she politely declines. She can barely keep the people she’s met in order, she’d rather not add to that list. 

“That’s okay. Feel free to ask if you change your mind, though.” The other woman starts humming a tune under her breath as she works. The tree leaves almost seem to be dancing along as they sway in the wind. 

 

\-- 

 

Benny’s sitting cross legged at the base of the tree when Henry arrives. The ringing of wind chimes and chirping birds lay in the background of the day. 

“I’m too tired to climb today,” he explains. Henry nods his understanding and takes a seat across from him.

“So, what's on the agenda for today?” he asks curiously. He sets the book on the ground and Benny wordlessly flips through the pages. 

“That,” he points to the drawing of a woman in his book, “is Demeter.” 

“The goddess of the harvest right?” questions Henry. He remembers reading that somewhere. 

“Yep.” He flips the page to an illustration of the same woman. She stands in a field of tall grass in a long dress blowing in the wind with a content expression. “She was the mother of Ares.”

“But I thought Hera was Ares mother?” 

“Well, Hera didn’t really want to care for Ares so she gave him to Demeter to raise. She’s his adoptive mom, I guess,” explains Benny. 

“So not his real mom,” He says more like a statement. 

Benny gives him a weird look. “No, she’s still his mom but we’re off topic. Anyways, she fought alongside Ares during the war and she was one of the first to be caught.”

“How’d she get caught?” 

“She set a trap to try and catch Adrestia,” he motions around them, “It was like this. You know that field she’s in? That’s the trap. The plan was that they’d step into the field and then the grass would wind around their feet and trap them.” 

“It didn’t work?” 

“No, it did. She escaped,” Benny says with a grin. 

“How’d she escape?” Henry asks eagerly.  

“She burned it. She went all,” he gestures wildly with his hands, “with a torch and escaped.” 

“A torch? Why not magic?” he asks tilting his head like a curious puppy. Magic may be a sensitive topic, but he can’t deny its usefulness for the heroes. 

“Magic don’t work in that part. Queen Regina’s curse was cast there and it made all the magic wonky or just not work,” he explains not particularly bothered by it. The words come out of his mouth before he can stop them. 

“What do you think of… Queen Regina?” It feels weird using that title for so many reasons. For one, she’s the Evil Queen not Queen Regina. 

“She was a good ruler,” Benny says with a shrug. “She didn’t do nothin’ that no one else ain’t.” 

“Would you consider her evil?” he questions trying to keep his expression casual. 

“I think I’d call any ruler evil. Except Adrestia, o’ course,” he answers easily. 

“But she’s the Evil Queen,” he mumbles quietly in confusion. “Doesn’t casting the curse seem… I dunno, evil? Eviler?” 

“It didn’t kill nobody and didn’t destroy anywhere but her own kingdom. Don’t seem that bad to me.” He looks at the other boy curiously. “Whys it matter what I think ‘bout Queen Regina anyways? She’s dead.” 

It’s so easy to forget that sometimes. Henry shrugs as he stares at the floor. “Nothing.” A frown crosses his face. “Wait, how’d you know that?” 

“Adrestia said so.” 

“Who even is Adrestia?” 

“She’s Adrestia.” Benny tilts his head at he question. 

“No, I mean under the mask.”

“She’s Adrestia.” 

“But what about her face? Or the veil?” 

“She’s Adrestia,” he states with visible confusion. 

“But- nevermind.” Benny looks at him pensively for a beat. 

“I dunno what she looks like under the mask, but she is Adrestia. Maybe she has a huge scar or something she wants to hide. It don’t matter to me, she’s still Adrestia.” 

 

\-- 

 

The trees along the path are spaced out with blue flowers and berries growing along the branches and grass. They have a soapy smell to them and a nearly ethereal sense of mysticism. 

It doesn’t take long for the path to end and flow into a large pasture with barns and fenced areas off to the side. A few horses graze throughout the area, a few run around, but the majority simply leisure around together.

Unsure of where to go, Emma heads towards the nearest building. It’s a wooden brown color with stalls lining the walls and riding tack hung around. Regina stands against one of the stalls while Elowen leans against the wall. Delthea stands between them with an annoyed expression. 

“Mama,” whines the child. 

“No. You are not riding your pony today,” Regina says firmly. “I can’t believe I’m even letting you out of bed. You should be resting.” 

“But E-lee!” She turns to Elowen for support. 

“Sorry, gotta agree with mama,” she says with a shrug. The girl crosses her arms defiantly and grumbles something. 

“Fine,” Delthea concedes with a pout. 

“See? Was that so hard?” Regina says with a fond smile. The girl steps aside and Regina moves to open the stall. Elowen waves at Emma as she walks over and Delthea looks curiously at her. 

“Mama, who that?” she asks pointing to the blonde stranger. 

“Who is- oh, Miss Swan. What are you doing here?” she says none to pleased. Her face has darkened, but it lights right back up as a palomino horse sticks its head out curiously. It studies Emma for a moment then steps out towards Regina and Delthea. 

“Good morning, Lucien,” greets the child. She turns back to Emma. “Miss Swan,” she greets imitating her mother. She looks at her mother expectantly. 

“Good morning, Lucien.” Delthea smiles, pleased. 

“Can we goes out now?” she asks.  

“Can we go out. But yes. Make sure you can stay where I can see you,” says Regina. Delthea grins widely and bounces off with Lucien close behind. The smile on Regina’s face fades as she turns back to Emma. 

“What are you doing here?” she asks bluntly. She doesn’t look angry and she’s not yelling so that’s a win, but she certainly doesn’t look happy to see Emma. 

“I finished the stuff with Evelyn. I was told to come here,” Emma explains. 

“Ah,” says Elowen. She  pushes off from the wall and walks towards her. “Come with me. I’ll get ya a shovel. You can help me clean up.” 

“Clean up what?” Emma asks cautiously. She doesn’t like where this is going. 

“What’d ya think?” 

 

She ends up helping clean the horse stalls for Elowen and she loathes herself for not going inside when she had the chance. Evelyn had offered a way out, but no! She had to be  _ helpful _ . She never used to be this selfless, always looking to help people where she can. She blames the whole savior thing for that. 

Sweat drips on her forehead and she has the urge to wipe it away, but knowing where her gloved hands have just been she’s hesitant. She sets the shovel by a table against the wall with the other tools and heads out of the open doors. It’s a wonderful feeling knowing she’s finally done. 

Elowen who’d finished long before her sits cross legged beside two resting horses a ways away while Regina watches Delthea not far from the stable. It’s times like these she can’t deny just how beautiful the woman is. Her hair is pulled back into a bun showing off her features and Emma just wants to swoon as she walks over. It's horrible. Utterly horrible. 

She must hear Emma coming because she turns to her as she approaches. “Finished?” she asks with a slight smirk. It’s not surprising to learn her utter humiliation lifts Regina’s mood. 

“I can feel your smugness from here, shut up.” Emma slides the gloves off and throws them aside on the ground. She takes a seat next to Regina and leans back on her arms. “Was it fun making me clean up shit?” 

“Extremely.” She doesn’t bother hiding the glee in her tone. 

“You’re an asshole,” Emma says without bite. 

“So I’ve been told.” 

“Yeah, I bet you have.” She watches with Regina as Delthea and Lucien run around the pasture without care. There’s something familiar about her face, nose and chin specifically, but Emma can’t place them. Everything else, though, is very Regina. 

“So, Lucien?” she prompts. 

“Hmm? What about him?” 

“I dunno. Just trying to make small talk.” 

“Why? Since when do you have interest in small talk with me? I’m surprised you even lower yourself enough to speak to me.” A large part of her wants to stay stubborn and mad at her, but the smarter part of her knows it wouldn’t do anyone much good to keep animosity in the air. 

“I…I don’t know. I’d like to apologize for yesterday, I guess. Be more friendly. You’re… I don’t know how to describe it, but I don’t think it would be the worst thing in the world to be more friendly.”  Regina looks at her skeptically then turns back to Delthea. “So, he got a story?” 

“Doesn’t everyone?” 

“You wanna tell me that story?” 

“Not particularly.” 

Screw it, if she’s trying to be friendly she might as well go all in. “Want me to tell a story then?” Regina looks at her curiously and nods. “The first time I rode a horse, I ended up straight on my ass.” 

“You ride?” she asks with disbelief. 

“I mean, I can yeah. Haven’t done it too recently, but I can.” Regina raises an eyebrow clearly not believing her. “I can ride a lot more than horses too.” 

Emma’s eyes widen at the comment coming out of her mouth. She graduated college with a degree of foot-in-mouth syndrome but this is another level. 

Regina snorts. “Such a crude mouth, Miss Swan.” 

This woman is going to be the death of her, she might as well make it a fair fight. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” 

“Would I now?” 

“Yep! Everyone wants a piece of this.” She gestures at her body. 

“You are certainly something, Swan.” 

“I bet you hate having a mortal enemy as intimidating as me.” 

“I’m shaking in my boots,” she deadpans. 

“Good.” Emma laughs evilly, but it devolves into a coughing fit. 

“You okay there?” Regina asks with amusement clearly written on her face. 

“Shut up.” 

  
  


\--

 

Dinner the second time around is much more enjoyable than the first. Regina and Delthea are back in their own room, but that still leaves a handful of women there to chat. 

“How’s life in a world without magic,” asks Anastasia, disinterested as ever. She’s sitting across from her taking a sip of wine looking at her with a calculating expression. 

“Dreadfully dull,” drawls Maleficent from down the row. Emma furrows her brow and shoves another forkful into her mouth. 

“How would you know?” she mumbles through the food. 

“You flayed me under the library, remember?” Emma chokes in surprise. She remembers that night vividly. Her son was in danger and she finally started believing in magic. She threw a giant sword at a dragon who’s apparently sitting at her dinner table. 

“How’d you get here? How are you alive?” 

“Dragons are essentially phoenixes with scales. They resurrect from their own ashes,” helpfully provides Elowen, ever the animal expert. Guinevere pats her wife fondly.  

“That's-“ Emma’s cut off by a coughing fit. Snow pats her back with a concerned expression and she finds herself coughing up a disgustingly half eaten berry. 

“Why in the world were you eating a blue raspberry?” questions Ursula from her other side. She looks critically at her, as if judging Emma for her complete idiocy. 

“Am I not supposed to?” 

“Only if you’re one of Elowens pets.” 

“I prefer the term friends-“ 

“Shut it, animal lover. Point is, those things are fine for animals but they’ll send any human into a coughing fit. How’d you ever get that? It’s not like they serve it here?” 

“Oh no. Someone must have slipped her it,” says Zelena in a monotone voice. Her face cracks and she cackles at herself. Evelyn and Robyn give her disapproving looks but she pays them no mind. 

“That wasn’t very nice, mom.” 

“Gah. None of you wankers have a sense of humor,” she grumbles going back to her meal. 

Ursula rolls her eyes and turns back to Emma. “Don’t eat blue raspberries.” 

“Noted.” 

  
  


\-- 

 

She felt a lot better than she thought she would. With the ship docked and loaded, it’s only a matter of time before the voyage went underway. 

“Ready?” asks Snow nervously fiddling with her sleeves. Emma nods more confidently than she feels and the two walk towards where the ship is docked. The dock is empty except for a few others tending to various other ships leaving the night silent. 

Lanterns hang from poles and in the light she can see Regina in her feathered cape on the boat already. She’s standing by Cybele talking with her. The two give each other a nod before the blonde is walking off the ship. Regina heads below deck muttering something to herself. 

“Good luck,” says a raspy voice behind them. Snow stumbles forward in surprise and Emma rushes to help her.  Cybele stares at them with a blank expression. 

It only cements her idea of putting a bell on all these woman. If one more witch or dragon or  _ whatever _ sneaks up behind her again, she’s going to yell. 

“Thanks.” Her mother smiles weakly, still paler than usual. Her eyes dig into them for a long moment. It’s unsettling to say the least and Emma is thankful when she finally nods to herself and walks away. 

“That totally wasn’t creepy,” mutters Emma. Snow nods jerkily in agreement. 

Turning back to the ship, for a moment Emma swears she can see a faintly familiar bird. It’s nearly a peacock, but the rings of red feathers give her pause on calling it that. 

“What the hell is that?” Emma asks. 

“What’s what?” Snow replies with a confused frown. 

“That…” In a blink, the bird is gone. Or maybe it was never there. “Nevermind.” 

A blonde woman skips towards them. “Hello,” she greets with a wave. “Name’s Alice. I take it you’re Snow White and the Savior?” 

“Yes, we are. You have a lovely ship,” compliments her mother. Emma wouldn’t know a quality ship if it hit her on the head, but she can’t deny the lovely craftsmanship. 

“I do agree. The  _ Leviathan  _ is one o’ my favorite designs. Me and my papa built it together by hand.” 

The two fall into conversation over the craftsmanship and Emma is thankful Snow is bothering someone else with her strange fondness for arts and crafts. Her best achievement when it comes to that is her ability to tie her shoes. 

“Now, why don’t get ya onboard,” says Alice. The three women make their way onto the ship without much hassle. “Now, we’ve stocked up for the way there and back. Mean you’ll probably have to buy some food on the island, but Adrestia has coins on her. Your bunks are there,” she points to a door opposite to the one Regina entered. 

A glimmer catches her eye and Emma glances around for whatever it came from. Alice continues explaining as Emma steps towards the object. It’s a feather like the ones she’d seen on the bird. 

She stares at it curiously for a moment before pocketing it. She turns back to the pair who are still talking. 

“-island. Now, that should be everythin’ you need to know. The ship will be ready for voyage soon,” says Alice. 

“Thank you. Have a wonderful night,” says her mother. 

“And you,” returns Alice. She walks off the ship and heads down to another ship docked. 

“Now-” Snow’s cut off by a door swinging open. Out steps Regina discussing something with Ursula. Their hands do most of the talking as they gesture wildly, but the two seem pleased with whatever they’ve agreed on as they walk over. 

“Be careful,” says Ursula. She doesn’t wait for a response and strides off the ship, back to the castle. 

Regina mumbles something to herself and turns to them. “Now,” she says, “Are you ready?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the adventure finally begins after what? 20k words?


	7. Gotta Be a Reason

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so i'm itching to get this finished and out there so i can move on but my partner says i shouldn't rush myself so i'm gonna try a weekly update schedual for every sunday. lets see if this works out.

Sailing with Snow and Regina is a lot different than she imagined. Mostly because they ship is traveling with the help of ‘magic GPS’ like a self-driving car.  Snow said something about taking a nap in her cabin, but Regina? Emma isn’t sure what she’s doing. 

She’d assumed the woman would be steering the ship because of how fast she sped off in that direction, but nope. 

The floorboards creak slightly as she makes her way around below deck.  The hall is lined with empty barrels and crates as far as the eye could see. There were multiple doors decorating the hall, however light only leaked from under one

Her steps are unsteady due to the boats gentle swaying, but she manages to reach it. Emma knocks loudly on the wooden door. 

“Come in,” comes the curt reply. Though, it’s more like an angry dog bark than a reply. 

Emma opens the door and glances around. Regina’s sitting cross legged on a red bed. Bookshelves filled to the brim line the walls at ever turn next to her. Books themself are scattered along the bed in front of her with other various papers covered in notes and writing utensils. 

“Hey.” Emma awkwardly waves as she takes a seat at the edge of the bed. Curious, she leans over to read the books, but they’re in the same weird language she can’t understand. 

Regina makes a vague acknowledging hum without looking up. She’s studying a drawing of some kind of key with an emerald or jade jewel decorating the top. 

“What’s that?” Emma questions pointing to the page. She has  _ some _ idea, of course, but it’s fun to get on Regina’s nerves. 

“The Ke y of Vengeances Door. One of the items we’ll be retrieving,” Regina distractedly replies. She furrows her brow and turns to grab one of the notebooks. She jots something down speedily then sets it aside again. 

“What’s it do? Reign vengeance on who ever it touches?” she quips half-serious, half-curious. “But hey, vengeance, huh? Right up your ally.” 

Regina doesn’t designate a response to that. “It’s one of the three things in the ‘mortal’ realm that can open a portal to Tartarus. Or, as you’d know it best, Hell.” 

It’s a lot darker than what she was thinking, admittedly. She’d understand it turning into a sword or something to fight them, but sending someone straight to hell? It seems a little- or very extreme. 

“And the other?” She’s almost hesitant to ask what the simple golden band across from it is. 

“The Eternal Occult Band. It can stop time long enough for us to actually push them all through to Tartarus.” It’s a lot more tame than the other, but still. Stopping time? That has to have some sort of ramifications. 

“You know, I thought we were just getting weapons or something. This all seems a little… extreme,” she voices. 

“If it makes you feel more like a hero, we’ll be stopping to get specialized swords on our journey. You can stab someone to death instead of sending them to hell.” She smiles sarcastically at her and turns back to her books. 

A silence that stretches on falls over the room at the comment. It leaves Emma’s mind open to wandering. Could she ask about the whole faking her death thing? How did she even get here? What even happened in the last decade? 

As if sensing her questions, Regina huffs out, “Spit it out, Swan. We’re going to be stuck here for the next two days. Might as well ask me while i’m a captive audience.”

She doesn’t know where to start. “What's going on? What’s happening?” She almost wants to growl in the frustration of it all. It feels like all she’s done this past week is ask question upon question. 

Who knows why, but Regina seems to find amusement in that. She chuckles and shuts the book on her lap, setting it aside. 

“You’re an idiot, Miss Swan. It’s almost endearing,” she says almost fondly. “What’s going on right now? I believe you’re interrupting my research.” 

“No, smart-ass,” she grumbles back. “I’ve asked, like, a million questions and I still don’t have like any answers-”

“Then why don’t you ask. Ask away, savior. I’m yours,” she practically purrs, “to question.”

Emma flushes redder than the bed. She knows Regina is just being the horrible evil seductress she is, but she can’t help but get lured in by that voice every time. 

She takes a deep, steadying breath to calm her racing heart. She opens her mouth and says the first thing on her mind. “Why did you fake your death?”

“Technically speaking, I didn’t.” Emma can’t sense any bit of trickery. 

“Then what happened? How do you explain us thinking you’re dead when you aren’t?” Getting answers from her was definitely like plucking teeth. Dumb stupid perfect teeth. 

“I died,” she says simply, “My sisters came to save me and I made a deal.” 

“Since when do you even have sisters?” she asks next, making a mental note to get follow-ups on that whole resurrected thing. How does that even happen? 

“Always, Miss Swan,” she drawls sarcastically. Which isn’t fair because she’s about eighty percent sure Anastasia is younger than her so that means their were years where they weren’t sisters. It’s a stretch but she thinks she can make it work. 

“Why’d you never speak of them then?” she has to asks.

“When would I? In fact, why would I? I never spoke of my parents or any other family, but you assumed I had them. Why are sisters different?” is the mildly caustic reply. Emma can’t really deny the fact she doesn’t actually know her much beyond the stories. 

“Well, let's change that. Tell me about your family,” she says, surprising both of them. 

“I’d rather not, thank you.” Regina gives her a sickeningly sweet smile. 

“What happened to ‘ask about anything, Miss Swan’?” 

“I sincerely doubt you’d want to hear about it, but if you insist,” she sarcastically drawls. “My mother abandoned my older sister in Oz as a baby and stole the hearts of my younger sisters birth family in her quest for power. You can probably gauge from that what mother was like.” 

“I mean, it’s not really news,” she says weakly. She isn’t willing to admit she does, indeed, regret asking. This wasn’t as light hearted as she thought it’d be. “She did kill an entire village in cold blood the first time I was here. She’s a real piece of work, eh?” 

“Less than two nights ago you remarked about me doing the very same. I understand you want to be ‘friendly’, but really? Has so much changed?” she asks. 

“I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt.” She shrugs self-consciously. “You want to be better and that's different from Cora. You are different.”

“Dear, oh dear you are an idiot, Miss Swan. Your mother's daughter, indeed.” She shakes her head in mock-sadness, her tone sarcastic and patronizing. 

“So I've been told.” She smirks playfully, unwilling to give in. “What about your dad? You wouldn’t have named Henry after a nutcase. Or maybe you would…” 

“No, he was a sweet man. Daddy was a wonderful man really.” She smiles as she speaks. It’s a small smile, but heartfelt and genuine. “Could never stand up to my mother, but he was a kind man with a wonderful heart. Even at my worst, he loved me. It was everything I hoped Henry would be.” 

“Henry still loves you, you know?” Emma says. Whether the boy knows it or not, he loves the mother he spent ten years of his life with. 

“I’m not good for him, though. I will never be good for him.” It’s said as a statement, she doesn’t leave any space for argument. “The way I handled him finding out about the curse was… horrific, really. He has every right to hate me and I have to hope he’d never forgive me. He deserves better, the best, and that seems to be you, Miss Swan.” 

Emma frowns contemplatively. “Yeah, you didn’t handle the curse the best, but I think you’re being a little harsh on yourself.” 

“Whether it was my intent or not, I made him think he was crazy. I caused him… so much pain when I should’ve been protecting him. I love him- I need him more than air, but I-” She huffs out a breath, unable to finish her sentence. 

Emma doesn’t really know how to respond to that. “Then redeem yourself for him,” she settles on. Regina tilts her head questioningly. 

“How so?” 

“Henry wants to see you as a hero instead of a villain. Become that hero for him. For yourself, Regina. Don’t make the same mistakes and work to be the mother you think he deserves. He deserves to have his mother back.” 

“That… that doesn’t feel possible.” 

“It is. Listen, I may not trust you that much or hell, understand you, but you’re a mother. You love Henry and would go to any lengths for him. Show him that.” That’s a lie, she's starting to understand Regina more and more. Learning so much at such a pace it scares her.  

“Why are you encouraging me to see your son, Miss Swan? What’s your angle?” 

“My angle is the fact he isn’t my son and he isn’t your son,” she says, “he’s  _ our _ son. We might never become friends, but whether you like it or not we’re both his mother. He deserves both of his mothers, doesn’t he?”

Regina stares at her silently for a long moment. She nods tentatively. “Okay.” 

That was easier than she expected. Emma grins widely. “Okay.” 

“And for what it’s worth, I'm sorry. It was a lie to say I owe nothing to you.”  

“It’s okay,” Emma assures. “For what it’s worth, I'm sorry too.”  

 

\-- 

 

“They say she gave birth right on the battlefield.” 

“I doubt that,” says Henry. “Though, that’d be pretty cool.”

“The book says it’s true and that’s good enough proof to me.” He shrugs. Henry wants to object, but he closes his mouth when he remembers his book. 

 

\-- 

 

She’s definitely cheating. 

“Checkmate!” declares Regina with a grin. Emma groans at the woman's third win of the night. 

They’re in a room below deck playing an extremely competitive game of chess while slightly buzzed to relax from a day of newfound understanding. There's still miles to go, but with one part mended, it’s good progress. 

“You’re cheating!” Emma huffs helping her set up the board for their next round. 

“Afraid you’re wrong, dear.” Regina smirks widely. “Perhaps you should work on your skill. I’ve played more difficult matches with Delthea.” 

“Is this just a roundabout way of saying I'm a child?” Emma scoffs lightheartedly. She’d never admit it, something she’s starting to say a lot these days, but she’s actually growing  _ fond _ of this woman insulting her. 

“Prefer not to comment.” Her grin twists into a cheekily smiles and she turns her attention back to the board, making her move. ”Though, it wouldn’t be an incorrect statement.” 

“Asshole,” she snorts, “I can’t believe I ever missed you.”

“Takes one to know one, Swan,” says Regina, ignoring, or not hearing, the last part completely. It’s probably for the best, Emma isn’t sure what answer she wants from that. Or if she’s even ready for an answer at all. 

“I still say you’re cheating.” Of course she knows Regina’s just better at the game than her, but her ego isn’t quite ready to accept that. 

“And I still say my five year old is a better match than you.” Knowing what she does about Henry and Regina is enough for her to believe it. Henry has, and would again, beat her in chess many times. 

“Won’t believe it till I see it,” she says instead,  making her move. 

“If everything goes as planned, you will very soon,” she chuckles. “I suggest you prepare to be beat.” 

“So, five huh?” she questions, changing the topic to something that isn't her many failures in chess. 

“Yes, arrived on the cusp of victory.” She shakes her head fondly. “She always had a flare for the dramatic.” 

“Tell me more,” she says.  

“Demanding aren’t we? You’re lucky I love talking about my children. She was born right near the end of the first war. Two months after she joined us we managed to capture our foes after five years of war-” she begins. 

“If you already captured them why can’t you just do it again?” interjects Emma. “Why do we need to go on this journey?” 

“Fate,” she states simply, “It’s inescapable.” 

“What do you mean? I’m the savior. It’s my job to beat fate, right? Break your curse and win a war against ‘gods’ and all?” Emma furrows her brow. 

“You do realize you just disproved your own point. Your  _ fate _ was to break the curse. You played right into it,” she points out. “And to explain, your arrival freed them quite literally. To put it in as simple terms as possible, the magic keeping them locked away was destroyed when you used the curse to return. It can't be restored.” 

“How is that even possible?” She may not know much about magic, but that doesn’t seem to add up. How can realms effect each others magic like that? 

“Betrayal. You don’t really believe the fairies could rewrite the  _ Dark Ones  _ magic or reverse  _ mine _ ,” she says haughty. 

“I mean they did so, yeah?” she argues. “Are you saying they didn’t? Why couldn’t they rewrite your or Rumples magic? Isn’t fairy dust like crazy powerful or something?” 

“No dear, Iris did. Probably on Hera’s orders,” she growls in distaste. “The air was filled with her magic. She most likely meant to make you all think the fairies did to to start this war on Hera’s orders.” 

“So does that mean Hera chose the prophecy?” she has to ask. 

“You know of the prophecy? Maybe your mother isn’t so dim after all…” she shakes her head as if shaking the thought away, “Yes, she did.” 

“Damn. Guess I should have seen that coming,” and she did. She just doesn’t want to admit she had another destiny to fulfill. Stupid powerful magic people who think they’re gods, “God, all this talk sounds so insane! God damn, it’s so unbelievable we’re talking about magic and gods. Just… god. I need a drink! And something to eat!”

“Your wish is my command.” Regina winks, waving a hand. In a cloud of purple smoke, two glasses appear and a bottle of some strange alcoholic drink she’s never seen and a bowl of soup.  Probably some weird Enchanted Forest wine . “Once we reach the island my magic will be heavily damped down, so we really must enjoy its perks while we can.”

Regina picks up the glass. “To crazy.” 

“To crazy,” Emma agrees, downing the drink. 

 

\--

 

A voice yells for Benny from inside the house. He pauses mid-sentence. 

“Looks like that’s all for tonight,” he says with a slight pout. “Tomorrow, same place?” 

“Yeah, tomorrow,” confirms Henry. The two boys help each other to their feet and climb down the latter. It’s a shock seeing how dark its gotten in such a short time. Henry could’ve sworn the sun was shining moments ago. 

He says his goodbye and goes to make his way back to camp. 

The walk back to camp is filled with cricket chirps, bird caws, and lightning bugs flickering. He isn’t ecstatic to return, so he takes his time and enjoys the scenery. 

Without anywhere else to sleep, they’d been sleeping on the ground. It’s beyond him why they don’t stay in the village in actual houses, but he’s a child. What does he know. 

The trees provided enough shelter for them to sleep, but he dreads to think of what would happen if it rained. A few blankets and mats were bought from what little they had for some, however, most relied on the clothes they had to keep them warm. 

The land is completely different than what they’d anticipated going into this, and it was leaving them with fewer and fewer options. Still, he keeps his head up and knows that things are going to improve. 

A wolf howl echoes through the air. He looks to his side and can see a few running by. There’s a sense of familiarity to one of the brown ones, but they pass to quick for him to get a good look. 

A few fires light up the camp. Some people sit and talk by them while others are fast asleep for the night. His grandpa is at the very back talking with people he can’t quite name. They’re royals for sure, but he can’t remember their names. 

As silently as he can, he creeps towards the circle. His blanket is being used by a woman and her daughter, and he isn’t sure if he’ll be getting it back tonight. As thankful as he is for it, the hero thing to do is to let them use it. 

“The dragon screamed- oh! Hey Henry! Where’ve you been?” greets grandpa with a wave. Henry mumbles something incomprehensible and shrugs. Grandpa lets him be and he curls up on the ground to sleep. 

“Anyways, as I was saying. The dragon screamed as I threw the sword at it’s chest…” 

For once in a long time, he doesn't dream of the raven, hawk, and swan.   
  
  


\--

 

There’s a spoon in her pocket and a warm body next to her. Those are the only two things she’s really aware of at this state of inebriated. 

“You’re so soft,” Emma murmurs nuzzling closer to the body. “I feel fuzzy things for you. I feel fuzzy.”  

“You make me feel all warm and fuzzy too, darling,” she murmurs into the blondes hair. She realizes what she’s said a moment later, and Emma can feel her pout as she says in the most petulant tone she’s ever heard, “Stop that! I’m the Evil Queen! I’m mean and cold! I feel nothing for no one!”

“Only if you stop,” Emma mumbles into the breast she adopted as a pillow, “I should hate you. I mean I thought I did for a while back there, but you’re too soft to hate. Like a giant teddy bear.” 

“If you call me a teddy bear again i’ll set you on fire,” threatens the other woman. If Emma wasn’t so inebriated she might have noticed the serious tone, even if the words are slurred, but in her drunken state she giggles. 

“Sure, Jan!” she mocks. “I’m shaking in my boots.”  

“I’m serious!” insist Regina scrunching up her nose like an annoyed toddler.  

“I know!” giggles Emma. “That’s why it’s so funny, ‘Gina! Haha, Gina! Sounds like-”

“Don’t call me ‘Gina,” she grumbles. “I’m a queen and a bit more refined.” 

“I’ll call you want I want, Queenie.” Emma tries to wink but it just comes off as a blink in her drunken state. “Huggle muffin, snuggle bear, cupcake-.” 

“I didn’t come back to life for this. I can kill you in like forty thousand ways with my pinky finger. I’m dangerous.” 

“I’ve seen cupcakes scarier.” Emma giggles. “Just admit it.” 

“No,” stubbornly denies Regina. “I am the Evil Queen! Menace of the White Kingdom! Slayer of the undefeatable! Conquer of kingdoms! Empress of the realms! The Goddess of War! I am not cute!” 

“Adorable,” smiles Emma snuggling closer to her. Regina pouts, but doesn’t say anything else as they both drift off to sleep. 

 

\--

 

Her brain is fuzzy as she comes to consciousness. The boat is rocking, but the cold bed is what draws her attention first. Did last night really happen? Her surroundings seem to think so. The lurching of the ship shakes her from her thoughts.

She shakily stands and the ship rocks harder. She stumbles across the room to the door and opens it. The door swings open, banging against the wall. She makes her way to the upper deck and the smell of saltwater hits her instantly. It’s a large contrast to the apple scent that seems to fill Regina’s side of the lower deck.   

She can see waves lapping at the ship side and something glimmering just below the surface. Her mother stands on one side with a threatening face while Regina stands on the other, a fireball in her hand. Both are in a fighting stance as they glare at nothing except the rocking waves.

“Show yourself, sea serpent!” yells her mother as glimmers show under the waves again.  Ah ,  a sea monster is what they’re fighting . Great. This day is off to a wonderful start. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you're into this story i encourage you to tell me! if you're confused i encourage you to tell me! a big element of this is that it's supposed to be confusing and all over the place, things contradict each other and don't quite make sense, but if it's hard to read i can totally go back and try and fix things without giving too much away.

**Author's Note:**

> it's only down hill from here folks


End file.
